


Das Biest of the Dark Wood

by TalentlyChallenged



Series: Tales of Magic and Shadows [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Blood and Torture, Character Death, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2018-08-20 04:32:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 25
Words: 114,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8236187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalentlyChallenged/pseuds/TalentlyChallenged
Summary: There is a demon in the Dark Wood. He reigns King of the Shadows with his tattered soul. His blood-stained eyes your only warning. A hollow laugh, the spelling of your end.PruCan VERY loosely based on the Fairy Tale "Beauty and the Beast".Fair Warning: This is going to be graphic, dark, and angsty. Eventual smut. (BL or Male x Male romance)*Rape/Non-Con tag does NOT pertain to the PruCan! Honestly, it's more of a "just in case" tag.Tales of Magic and Shadows: Book 1





	1. Tales of Magic and Shadow Info

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Note: Hello Everyone! This is Challenged. Please read the contents below. Instead of explaining all of this information “in story”, Talent and I felt it was easier for both us (and more importantly the reader) if this information was presented before going into the story. It sets up the story nicely and gives the reader some context to the universe/reality/whatever the heck this story takes place in. Please see the end for more authors’ notes.

• This “Fanfiction Story” Universe is an alternate universe/whatever where magic is real and part of daily life; though only select people can use it. Any sort of magical creature can and will excist. Magic can be used by select people in any “humanoid” race, though some races can only use one type of Magic.

• In the current age, gender roles have become obsolete through magic. Unlike before, where only women could produce offspring, magic healers can now craft a fake womb. This gives men the ability to also have children. (This concept was adapted from the use of a parasite to create a fake womb seen in the manga Sex Pistols by Kotobuki Tarako sensei.)

• Gods and Goddesses or Deities excist and are different to every culture. Not every Kingdom recognizes them as deities. Some see them as extremely powerful beings, but not deities.

• The Land is divided into either Kingdoms or Territories. Kingdoms are ruled by an Absolute Monarchy and the Nobility. Territories are pieces of land not officially “owned” by any Kingdom, but home to tribes and ruled by their appointed leaders.

• There are 5 Types or Categories of Magic:  
1\. Dark Arts/ Demon Magic  
2\. Blood Arts/ Gifted Magic  
3\. Alchemic Arts/ Transformation Magic  
4\. Apothic Arts/ Potion Magic  
5\. Lost Arts/ Unknown Magic  
*All Magic can overlap depending on the use or action it provides. Example: A curse (Demon Magic) might require a poison (Potion Magic) to be drunk by the victim to turn them into a Frog (Transformation Magic).

A. Dark Arts/ Demon Magic:  
\- Used through the manipulation of dark energy or potential energy. Potential energy is energy not already in the form of carbon.  
\- Used mostly in the form of curses and summoning’s.  
\- A curse can be either good or bad depending on what way it is used. Curses can be used for nearly anything from forcing someone’s body to take the form of a frog, to enacting extreme narcolepsy on a victim. (i.e. the most common curse is a mild infertility curse, used for birth control purposes)  
\- Summoning’s are the use of beings (both of this universal plane and others) as servants, aids, or companions. This can be anything from a monster guarding treasure to Necromancy. (i.e. the most common use of summoning is of ordinary animals or magical creatures as pets)

B. Blood Arts/ Gifted Magic:  
\- A Magic usually found in Tribes, it is magic abilities, skills, or affinities passed down through genetic bloodlines.  
\- Gifted Magic is specific and unique only to the group it belongs to. Because it is passed to select people, it is marked by physical characteristics. (i.e. a certain eye color or a distinct birthmark)  
\- Gifted Magic can manifest as nearly anything, though it is typically not as powerful or “fantastical” as other Magics. These abilities are usually linked to the history and origin of the Tribe.

C. Alchemic Arts/ Transformation Magic:  
-Used through the manipulation of energy in the form of carbon or with a “physical” form. By manipulating the carbon in things, you can turn an object made of one material into another or fuse objects together. (i.e. turning a pumpkin into a carriage)  
-Transformation Magic on living things is forbidden. It is extremely dangerous to both the subject and the Magic user. Only The Guild can give official permission to use Transformation Magic on the living.  
-Transformation Magic is limited to a certain time limit before the object will revert back to its original form. However, this can be prevented if a sacrifice or other exchange is done equal to the time limit or type of transformation.

D. Apothic Arts/ Potion Magic:  
\- Often referred to as “cooking”, it is the boosting or decreasing of certain properties in substances to have a desired effect.  
\- The most commonly found Magic, it is used mainly for healing and food or drink production. Poison and potion brewing is also done for use in other types of Magic.

E. Lost Arts/ Unknown Magic:  
\- Any unknown Magic. This could be because of loss of records, the extinction of the group who used it, or it simply has not been discovered yet.

• The Guild:  
\- The Guild is a body that governs the use and mis-use of all Magical Applications and Activities. They investigate, enact, enforce and mitigate all things Magic.  
\- The Guild is separate from the governing bodies of the different Kingdoms and Territories.  
\- Most magic users become “Guild Members” instead of being Free-Lancers; unless they use the Apothic Arts. Jobs and Assignments are posted in Guild Halls, making work much easier to find.

• Magic users are separated into 4 categories:  
1\. Witches and Wizards: Any type of Magic user that is not a Guild Master, Artisan, Sorcerer, or Sorceress.

2\. Artisan: A Magic user of a higher skill than a Witch or Wizard, but is not a “Guild Member”; usually Shop Owners or Professional “Free-Lancers”.

3\. Sorcerer or Sorceress: A Magic user who is an Agent of The Guild. They perform specific assignments and research for The Guild. They also go on missions and provide defensive support in times of crisis or calamity.

4\. Guild Master: The Highest ranking member in The Guild. Guild Masters form the council that runs The Guild and organizes its’ Agents. Guild Masters are usually the most skilled and experienced Magic users, because of this they are often elders as well.

• Each Kingdom and Territory has its own language, but they all share a universal language; English.  
*This story will be written in English, but foreign words will be added with translations.  
1\. Kingdom of Gegend: German  
2\. Kingdom of Nordlys: Danish  
3\. Kingdom of Papillon: French  
4\. Kingdom of Nihon: Japanese  
5\. Bartian Territory: German  
6\. Krasnyy Territory: Russian  
7\. Hacha Territory: Spanish  
8\. Agooge Territory: Ancient Greek

*Within each language are also different dialects between the classes. An example would be Received Pronunciation vs. a Cockney accent when using "British English". The high classes (monarchy, lords, etc.) would use a more "gentile" dialect, whereas the lower classes would use something more like a Cockney accent. /p>


	2. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Warning: This is going to get graphic, dark, and angsty. Reader discretion advised.  
> We do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers or any of the characters portrayed in this story. We only own the plot.

_10 years prior……._

A massive crowd was gathered in front of the palace walls. They clamored for a front row spot in front of the scaffold recently erected there. On the platform were two raised wooden posts; chains and shackles attached to either side. A man dressed in black leather stood to their side. A table with assorted instruments and weapons to his left. The head of a broad-axe could be seen peaking over its’ side. A grate with a smoking fire rested behind the Executioner, adding more darkness to his already dreaded visage.

The crowd fell silent from surprise as a young boy of 15 years was brought out in chains. They recognized him immediately by his famous appearance. He had silver-white hair and piercing red eyes.  The boy held his head high and did not tremble as they led him up the steps of the scaffold, removed his shirt, and forced him to kneel as they replaced his old shackles with those attached to the post.

Once his guards had chained him and taken their places, retreating to the back of the scaffold; a crier yelled out, “All Kneel! To his Majesty King Aldrich of the Kingdom of Gegend and his heir, Prince Ludwig!”

The crowd knelt as one as the King came through the palace gates and approached the scaffold. A boy of 10 years, unfamiliar to the crowd, followed him. The King’s hand gripping his shoulder as he forced him forward. They both ascended the scaffold and the king directed Ludwig to the side before turning to the people gathered.

In a voice that dripped superiority and arrogance he proclaimed, “This young _man_ has been charged with the crimes of Desertion and Treason. Three years ago, he left his post as squire to General Fredrick and defected to the Kingdom of Krasnyy. Our sources tell us of his time there, six months were spent in the Kingdom’s capital. We believe he released secret intel to the enemy during this time.”

A confused murmur went up from the crowd at this news. The King raised his hand and the people calmed down once more. “The punishment for the crime of Treason is death by Drawn and Quartering!”

Dead and astonished silence rang out from the audience at the King’s judgement. The victim of this sentence looked neither surprised or scared. Instead his face held a bemused, yet saddened smirk. Only the sadness reached his eyes.

 The only person who made a sound was Prince Ludwig. Upon the death sentence the Prince fell to his knees, clutching his head, and wailed great sobs. A few words were muttered in between the wails. “Oh Gott please nein. Nein. Oh Please. Gott. Nein……..”

The King looked over at his son in disgust and annoyance. He marched over to the kneeling figure and drew him to his feet. The Princes’ head whipped back as the King cracked his open hand against his cheek; his tears flying off his face with the impact.

The Prince stopped speaking and attempted to muffle his sobs. The King once more resumed his place, front and center, and continued addressing his audience.

“However! I am nothing if not a merciful King. He is still young and we are in need of expendables. I have chosen to spare his life in lei of a more useful punishment.” He nodded to the Executioner, who turned to remove a massive brand from the burning grate. “With this brand, he will be marked as a Deserter for the rest of his life. A stain on society. The shame of our people.”

The Executioner walked up behind the chained boy with the brand. The King joined his son on the side. Partially so the crowd had a clearer view, but mostly to ensure his son was forced to watch as the prisoner was punished.

The Executioner pressed the brand deep into the boys’ back; branding not only skin, but muscle and bone as well. So deep, a part of his soul burned away along with it. Though his expression portrayed the most excruciating pain, he never let out a sound as tears rolled down his cheeks; mouth hung open with silent gasps.  His face upturned as he arched his back in pain; chains drawn taunt. The afternoon sun reflected the color of his eyes through his tears; making it appear as though he shed tears of blood. When the brand was finally pulled away, it took chunks of muscle and skin with it. A giant _Black_ Eagle covered his entire back; a mockery of the country’s usually Golden Emblem.

 The King stepped away from the Prince, who was now hunched over and curled in on himself; his arms wrapped around his own torso and his head bent. Returning to the center of the scaffold, he addressed the crowd one last time. “In punishment of his Desertion, he will serve as a Fodder Slave for the rest of his life. Until his final day, the army will use him for the most dangerous and gruesome missions; protecting our more honorable soldiers. Let it be known this is the fate of anyone who commits Desertion!” He looked to Prince Ludwig. “ _No one_ is above _my_ law.”

With this the King gathered his son and made his way off the scaffold. As he passed the condemned, he met his eyes. The King’s stride faltered from what he saw there. One would expect to see fear or pain in the boys’ eyes. Instead, the King saw a darkened hatred had completely consumed his deep red irises. For the first time in his adult life, the King felt a sliver of fear creep up his spine; making him glad he would never lay eyes on the walking corpse again.

As the palace gates slowly drew closed, Prince Ludwig looked back to the prisoner one more time. The last sight he ever saw of him was a loving and forgiving smile.

The show over, the audience quickly dispersed to go about their usual tasks and duties.  The guards stepped forward from their posts and approached the prisoner. Halfway across the platform, they stopped cold. The boy had not trembled during the whole ordeal, but was now doing so ferociously. It wasn’t until great peals of strange laughter erupted from him, that they understood he trembled with mirth; startling the remaining on-lookers and the three men still on the scaffold.

They unchained him roughly, purposely grazing his burnt flesh. One of the guards asked him, “What’s so funny you piece of Fodder Trash?”

The boy looked up at the guard, red-tinged tears still streaming down his face. “Kesesesesesesese. It’s mein Vater. Doesn’t he know this is no punishment at all? Your enemy shows me far more affection than he or my people ever will! Kesesesesesesese!”

He continued to laugh hysterically as the guards dragged him away. Too weak to walk, they pulled him away by his legs; gravel digging into his open and raw flesh as they walked across the yard. The First Prince only stopped laughing when he finally blacked out from pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> German Translations:  
> Mein- My  
> Gott- God  
> Nein- No  
> Vater- Father  
> Gegend- Area or Land  
> Das Biest- The Beast
> 
> Russian Translations:  
> Kransnyy- Red


	3. Chapter #1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note: Hello Everyone! This is Challenged. Hope we didn’t scare you off with the preface. It does get better……eventually…..Anyway enjoy Chapter #1! Translations at the bottom. Comment if you like what you read!  
> We do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers or any of the characters portrayed in this story. We only own the plot.

_Present day……_

Matthew **Ran**. Faster. Don’t Stop. Keep Going! No matter how many times he fell; no matter how much the tree limbs tore at his clothes or cut his face. He just kept running. Just. Keep. Running…..

Through the Dark Wood Matthew ran. An hour….three….six…. who knows how long? Over roots, under branches, and across a river; still he kept running. He was utterly exhausted, but he couldn’t stop. Running was his only chance of survival against the predators that roamed these woods. Not only were there droves of wolves, bears, and wild cats to deal with; but a far more terrifying creature roamed these trees.

The Demon of the Dark Wood; the **Beast.**

 And Matthew had nothing but the clothes on his back to protect him from….everything. No food, no water, and definitely no weapons. Yes, Matthew was most assuredly screwed, and the sun was almost completely set behind the horizon.

Matthew slowed his pace slightly so he could see better in the inky black of his surroundings. His only option now was to find a place to hunker down and pray nothing sniffed him out. Not likely with so many cuts bleeding along his arms, legs, and face. Predators tracked wounded animals by their blood, and it was said to be the Beasts’ favorite.

The Beast was the rumored undeniable King of the Dark Wood. Traveling merchants told stories of how he moved through the shadows as if he was one of them. Hunting all other predators for sport; ripping them apart with his bare hands and teeth. The only visible thing in the darkness his eyes. Stained bright red from spilling the blood of his victims over them. His strange and eerie laugh the only warning before he claimed you.

Even so, being eaten alive was a relatively quick death compared to what awaited him at home. Matthew and his brother Alfred lived in a village just south of the Dark Wood. Or at least, _had_ lived together until recently. Alfred had always wanted to be a Knight, or more specifically a _Hero_. Unfortunately, Matthew and Alfred were both commoners and non-wizards to boot. This left Alfred with almost zero chance of becoming a Knight.

The annual festival and tournament 3 months prior had changed that. Many Knights and officials came to witness and compete in the tournament, including one very distinguished General Fredrick. The star-struck Alfred had immediately glued himself to the man’s side and by the end of the tournament, General Fredrick left with an overgrown and bright-eyed page boy.

Matthew was ecstatic for his brother, but when Alfred left he took his protection with him.

The village was a small community and had a distinct hierarchy. At the top of that hierarchy stood the local Sheriff, Carlos Machado. Carlos had always made Matthew nervous.  He never seemed to approach Matthew while his brother was with him, so he made sure to stick close to Alfred as much as possible. Instead of coming up to him, Carlos would unblinkingly stare at Matthew. _So Creepy._

Alfred never seemed to notice and Matthew, not wanting to bother him, hadn’t told him. The other villagers were no help either. People either mistook him for his brother, or didn’t notice he existed at all. Carlos was the Sheriff and he had enough power to get away with whatever he wanted.  

Carlos took full advantage of Alfred’s absence. Making “Official Sheriff” reasons to come to his cottage and “investigate”. Some days he would spend _hours_ poking around his personal belongings.

Investigating his cottage led to him investigating Matthew’s person. He would ask Matthew question, after question. What was his favorite color? What could he cook? How many children did he want? Each question more personal than the last. And if the Sheriff didn’t like his answer? Matthew would be reprimanded. That escalated as well. At first he would express his displeasure in words. Loud and aggressive words, but only words. Later he added hands, feet, and teeth. The second to last incident ended with a punishing bite to his lips; which turned into a harsh and unwelcome kiss. His hands moved from bruising his upper arms to groping his ass cheeks before the church bell rang out; drawing Carlos away to the crisis it announced. A couple of boys around 8 years old thought it would be funny to watch the villagers scramble around in a panic.  They weren’t laughing when Sheriff Carlos found them. Evidently he didn’t like being interrupted.

This morning had been the final straw for Matthew. He went out early this morning to bath in the stream at the edge of the Dark Wood. The brothers had little money and none to waste on a bathing tub. Removing his shirt he proceeded to wash his upper half with a cloth and soap-root. The splashing of the water hid the Sheriffs footsteps as he came up behind Matthew and threw him to the ground.

Climbing on top of him, Carlos held Matthews’ hands above his head with one of his own. The other going to the tie of his pants. He tried to force Matthews’ mouth open with his teeth as he gave him a sloppy kiss. Matthew turned his head away, splitting his lip wide open on the Sheriffs teeth in the process. The tie finally loose and his pants down, Carlos bypassed Matthew’s penis and went straight for his asshole. Roughly shoving two chubby figures right in and scissoring his pucker, stretching it taunt.

Matthew cried out and arched his back in pain. His captor moaned his appreciation and slackened his grip on Matthew’s hands. Matthew didn’t waste the opportunity. Grabbing a rock underneath him with both hands, he thrust both hands out of Carlos’s grasp; up, over, and down on his head.  He brought the rock down so hard, both the rock and the Sheriffs’ head cracked right open.

It didn’t knock him unconscious, but it did give Matthew an opening to roll his molester off him and make a break for the tree-line. Picking up his soaked shirt along the way. 

Twelve hours later Matthew was still running away and more importantly, running out of time. The sun had fully set as he crested the top of a bluff. As he looked down at the valley before him, he saw a miracle. A light shown out in the blackness of the Dark Wood. For Matthew, his salvation.

If he could make it to the light, he just might survive this night. Hope renewed, he gingerly made is way down the side of the bluff.  As he drew closer through the trees, a small cabin and campfire came into view. A man in a black leather cut-off shirt stood off to the side, cutting wood over a stump. His hair appeared grey in the fire-light and hung down to his shoulders. Matthew silently walked up behind the man, but stopped short and gasped before he could call out a greeting.

This close to him, Matthew could see it was not a shirt the man wore, but a brand upon his skin. A brand covering his whole back in a giant black eagle. The eagle had lost his crown and scepter; a wing, an entire talon, and part of his torso were consumed by too many jagged scars and burns to count. Different sizes, different shapes, and a giant slash mark running from the top of the man’s right shoulder, through the eagle and down over his left hip. The same grotesque pattern ran over all of his exposed skin, leaving every shred decimated in its wake.

Matthew gasped at the moment the man began a downward stroke of the axe. Fluidly and without missing a beat, he turned left with the stroke; the axe coming down with full force in one hand. Mathew didn’t have time to even blink as the axe came down directly for his neck. It stopped at the last possible instant not even an inch from his throat. Matthew swallowed and his Adams-apple pressed into the edge of the blade. Adding another sliver of blood to the tiny trickles already running down the rest of him.

Looking up into the man’s face, Matthew felt an overwhelming amount of dread course through him. His face and torso were covered with the same scars the rest of him portrayed. His chest sported only one nipple. The figure’s right nub must have been bitten off, then burned. There were less scars on his face. Where the rest of him was covered in them, scars only _dotted_ his face. One large gash ran from his hairline, over his right eye, and down the edge of his chin. His hair looked grey from a distance, but this close Matthew could see it was actually a silvery-white.

None of these things truly frightened Matthew. Not his scars or marks; but his teeth, nails and especially his eyes _did_. His lips were pulled back in a feral grin, his canines slightly longer than normal and sharp at the tips. His nails were also sharpened into points, resembling claws. _His eyes._ His eyes were the hue of fresh spilled blood. The irises slitted and blown wide in the dark. The eyes of a monster.

Only one thing in these woods had those eyes, and Matthew had literally walked right into his den. “ ** _Beast_**.”

A wolf howled behind the cabin and the creature turned his head toward the sound. When he brought it back around, Matthew had disappeared back into the trees the way he’d come.

The pack howled in exaltation as they circled the clearing in the trees and made after their desperate prey.

“Tch. Dummkopf.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> German Translations:  
> Das Biest- The Beast  
> Dummkopf- Idiot


	4. Chapter #2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone! We just wanted to thank you all for the great response this story has gotten. Your support means a lot to us. We will continue to try and update in a prompt manner! (^^)

So this was it. He was going to die. _I wish I could’ve seen Alfred become a Knight._

After running for the entire day, Matthew’s body was beyond exhausted. He had nowhere to go and the wolves were right behind him. Steadily gaining as his body failed to keep going.

He felt _so stupid_. If he had done something differently; he wouldn’t be about to meet his maker. Why did he think a light in the Dark Wood could be anything but a trap?

If he was being honest with himself, a part of him had believed the Beast was exaggerated or made up entirely. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

A wolf let out a sharp yelp from the back of the pack and Matthew turned his head at the sound. In the distance, two scarlet orbs shown in the distance. They steadily got closer as the creature sped up; incapacitating a few wolves as it came. The Beast of the Dark Wood was _hunting_ him.

Matthew didn’t see the pit in time. Turning his head back around to the front, he fell face first into a deep, dried ravine; filled with jagged rocks and roots. Catching his foot on a root, the sound of his body hitting the ground hard muffled the crack of his ankle breaking.

The wolves wasted no time surrounding the pit and bearing down on him. The Alpha, a massive black brute with yellow fangs and steely eyes raised his maw and let out a victorious howl. The signal to move in for the kill.

Before he lowered his snout, a dark figure flew past his side and launched itself over the edge of the ravine. Matthew followed it up and directly above him as the figure started his decent.

The Beast bore down on him with the same monstrous eyes and feral grin.

Matthew curled himself into the fetal position around his broken ankle and waited. He felt the demon land on top of him. As he let out the most disturbing, guttural growl, Matthew waited for the first strike.

…

…

…

Nothing happened.

The growling continued for another minute or so before Matthew finally drew up the confused courage to see what was happening. The monster was still above him, he was still on all fours, and he was still growling. But he wasn’t growling down at Matthew……he was growling at the _wolves_. The Beast had arranged himself so that Matthew was completely under him in his fetal position. His limbs were long enough that he could turn his body any way and circle around, always keeping Mathew protected beneath him.

He circled himself toward any wolf that came close. Growling at them and even swiping or biting at the few braver than the rest. Some of the wolves tried coming at him two or three at a time, but he was too fast for them.  This went on for about fifteen minutes before the pack eventually backed off up the side of the ravine to regroup.

Turning toward the Alpha, the Beast singled him out. He looked him straight in the eye before lifting his face toward the moon and let out the most viciously hollow howl Matthew had ever heard.

He had no idea how, but he recognized the howl for the challenge it was. The Alpha balked in surprise before confidently raising his own muzzle and howling his acceptance. The rest of the pack joined their Alpha’s song before backing up far from the edge of the pit; giving the combatants more space to duel.

The Beast picked Matthew up by his arm and uninjured leg, tossing him up the side of the ravine; landing him just before the lip of its edge. Matthew thought for sure the wolves would come after him then, but he was as good as forgotten.  Their focus was on the center of the pit.

The two monsters were circling each other slowly. Both parties fully engaged in the duel; looking for their opponents’ weak spot. This went on for several minutes, the tension climbing as their audience waited for one of them to make the first move.

After a good five minutes, the Alpha finally struck. Aiming for the demon’s side, he bit down hard on his right arm instead as the Beast brought it down to block the attack. The Alpha clamped his jaws, locking them into the appendage. Shaking his head viciously, he grooved his teeth deeper in, ripping away at the arm as he did.

The Beast just stood there, taking it. Matthew didn’t know how he should feel. Both parties were fighting out who got to eat him, but one of them was losing so badly. _Was he so arrogant he wanted to be more of a struggle for whoever won him as dinner?_ He was roused from these musings by a sound.

“Kesesesesese…….”

The monster shook as he laughed; the tired and maniacal sound contorting his face in a sick, twisted kind of humor. Raising his left hand, he brought it down on the Alpha’s side, taking chunks of flesh and veins away with his claws. His opponent whined and snarled around his locked prize.

The Alpha tried to unlock his jaw, but his teeth were stuck in the arms’ muscle and could not be removed. He futilely tried to injure his opponent from his locked position, but to no avail. With every swipe of his claws, the Beast tore out the Alpha’s throat and side, exposing inner organs and cutting out his windpipe.

The entire time, the Beast didn’t stop laughing.  As blood and gore splattered all over his visage; he didn’t stop until his opponent dropped dead at his feet.  His opponent defeated, he raised his head in another howl; a proclamation.  The other wolves joined him, acknowledging their new alpha.

The Beast turned to Matthew and stalked over to him.  Matthew scooted backward in a futile attempt to escape.  The Beast grabbed him with his good arm and unceremoniously hefted him over his left shoulder.  Matthew’s captor walked up and out of the ravine before heading in the direction of the still burning campfire.  His newly acquired pack trotted along behind him.

As Matthew bounced on his shoulder, he couldn’t help thinking what would happen once they were back at the Monsters’ lair.  At the thought of his head placed on that same wood-splitting stump; Matthew promptly fainted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> German Translations:  
> 1\. Das Biest = The Beast


	5. Chapter #3

The first thing Matthew noticed was the pain. His entire body ached, but his right ankle felt like it was on fire.

Matthew was lying on his back on a lumpy mattress; a rough kind of blanket covered him. _Wait…….mattress? Wasn’t I……-!_ Matthew bolted upright; the blanket fell off his shoulders to pool in his lap. Scared and disoriented, he looked around at his surroundings.

He was lying in a small cot. It was made of multiple furs sewn together with what Matthew guessed was sinew. From the musty smell, he could tell the cot was filled with moss. The blanket was a single, giant black bear hide.

The cot was placed in a corner of a single room; opposite to the door. Windowless walls were covered with even more pelts for insulation. A small hearth with a cast-iron kettle was set in one wall; with a few cooking utensils hanging from the wooden mantle. A low-table and some shelving built into the other walls were the only furniture. Metal hooks hung from some while others held random items. Some hooks held pieces of clothing; all leather or fur. The dirt floor was covered with dried grass. A covered bucket of water was placed on the low-table. The entire abode was maybe one-hundred and fifty square feet.

Matthew looked down at his person. He was still in his own clothing, though his shoes had been removed and hidden. Blood stains streaked his garments; not all of it his own. His right ankle had been set back into place. From arch to calf his foot had been bound with strips of leather and two straight pieces of wood held his ankle firmly. The whole set-up held together with treated animal intestines.

Matthew threw off the bear hide and after three rolling attempts, managed to stand upright. Inspecting the confines of the room, he failed to find his missing shoes. There were many items lining the shelves. Mostly bones, sharpened rocks, and even a few dishes; but what surprised Matthew the most, was a small, well used and loved book. It was so loved, it was barely staying together at the spine. Blood and god knows what else stained its faded brown pages.

Matthew was illiterate save a few words and writing his name. While it had been Alfred’s dream to become a knight, it had always been Matthew’s to learn to read. To own an entire library of books and read every one of them. With books, he could leave their small village and live a million different adventures. A million different lives. With books, he was free.

Clutching the book in his hands he wondered at the world it held inside. His only clue the blackened picture of a young woman in a dress and apron sweeping.

Placing the book back in its place, Matthew turned toward the door. _Only one way out._ Grabbing a sharpened stone off one of the shelves, Matthew hobbled his way to the door. Mentally preparing himself for what lay beyond, he cautiously cracked the door open and walked a few feet outside before halting.

As one, the wolf pack from the night before raised their heads from their sleeping position on the ground; ears perked. A white female stood up and advanced on Matthew. Growling with teeth bared and ears flat. From somewhere above an eagle let out a horrendous screech.

Matthew slowly backed up a few steps, as the she-wolf slowly forced him back and towards the door. When he was three steps from the door, a figure dropped down from off the cabins’ roof to land between the canine and Matthew.

The Beast slowly straightened at the knees from his landing position and turned to Matthew with his eyes narrowed. “Inside. **Now.** ”

_He talks_. He actually spoke and if it was possible, that made him even more frightening. It was one thing if a monster was a ferocious beast.  It was another if said beast was also sentient; capable of logic.  A controlled kind of crazy was the most dangerous kind.

“N-no no.  I don’t want to.”

The Beast hunched his shoulders forward; lowering his head, he stomped forward toward Matthew.

Matthew leveled the sharpened stone in his right hand and pointed it toward his impending doom.

“S-Stay back!  Don’t come any closer.”

The Beast didn’t even glance at the weapon.  When he was close enough he reached out and gathered both of Matthew’s wrists in his left hand.  Raising them above his head and back, he forced Matthew to either step back to keep his balance or fall.  As the Beast stepped forward, he walked Matthew back into the cabin.

“Let go of me!  I said let go of me!”

**“Ruhig!”**

Forcing him back toward the bed, the Beast released his grip and Matthew promptly landed back on the cot.  Scrambling to sit up straighter, he locked eyes on his captor. The Beast walked back to the door and closed it.

Soundly leaning back against the door, his arms crossed; he simply said, “We need to talk.”

 

 

German Translations:

Ruhig = Quiet


	6. Chapter #4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone! Challenged here! Whoo-Hoo! They’re finally talking! I know, I felt it took too long as well……but here it is so enjoy! And again thank you for all the support this story has gotten, it really means a lot to us! If you like the story so far, let us know. Comments fuel my updates. *wink*wink* (^^)

“Please. Please don’t eat me!”

The Beast sighed and pushed away from the door. Walking over to a shelf, he picked up a crude wooden cup. Filling it with water from the bucket on the low-table, he offered it to Matthew. “Here. Drink.”

Matthew looked at the cup with trepidation. “I don’t-!”

“ **Drink it.”** The Beast forced the cup into Matthew’s hands, spilling a little of the contents over his hands.

Matthew tentatively sniffed at the cups, liquid contents. Not smelling any aroma indicative of potions, he took a few sips before placing it on the ground in front of the cot.

The Beast crouched down on his haunches and searched Matthew’s face. “Have you calmed down?” Matthew slowly nodded his affirmation.

“Good. Now, how much of last night do you remember?”

Matthew looked down at his hands. Wringing them in his lap he replied, “Not much. It’s fuzzy. I was running from my village; I ran for a long time. Eventually it got dark and I knew if I didn’t find shelter or something would get me.” Matthew snuck a look at the Beast, who nodded for him to continue. “I saw a light through the trees, so I ran toward it. It turned out to be your fire. You came at me with the axe and I got a look at your eyes. I realized who you were, so I ran. The wolves came after me. I fell down and hurt my ankle. Before the wolves could get to me, you fought the big black one……” _You were laughing_. “You won and that’s all I remember until I woke up in this room.”

Matthew peeked up at the creature in front of him. The Beast was staring at him intently. His next question hid it’s seriousness under his calm voice. “Who do you think I am?”

Matthew could barely raise his voice above a whisper he was so scared. “The Beast.”

The Beast relaxed visibly at his answer. Matthew let out a sigh of relief. His answer hadn’t angered him.

“What is _The Beast_?”

Matthew went back to wringing his hands in his lap. “S-Sometimes when we have traveling merchants in the village, they tell us stories……”

“Such as?” He prompted.

“Um, about a Beast with blood red eyes that dwells in the shadows of the Dark Wood. A Beast that hunts bears and wolves for fun……and devours any human he finds.”

“Pft! Kesesesese.” The Beast had his left hand placed over his eyes and forehead. His torso shook with mirth. “Well, at least they got most of it right.”

He suddenly stilled and lowered his hand. Staring at Matthew with a serious expression, he asked, “Is that why you thought I would eat you?”

Matthew ducked his head in answer.

“I see. I’m only going to say this once. I don’t eat man unless I absolutely have to. You’re safe from **that** particular fate with me.”

Mathew was both confused, yet relieved by his claim. “What do you mean by ‘unless you have to’?”

The side of the Beasts’ mouth curled up in a sad and reproachful sneer. “Not everyone has the **luxury** of eating what they **want**.”

Matthew felt a chill at the realization the Beast was talking from experience. _How far does a person have to be pushed before he sinks to eating human flesh?_

“I assume you are from the village to the south. Are you running from the law?”

“Ah…… in a manner of speaking.”

“Hah. That was a stupid question.” The Beast ruffled the hair on the back of his head in agitation. “No one comes into the Dark Wood unless they’re escaping something. **Especially** someone like you.”

Matthew’s back straightened with affront. “What do you me ‘someone like you’?”

The Beast looked dead serious at Matthew with a cruel snarl. “Exactly what I said. Someone like you; as weak, pathetic, and helpless as a newly hatched baby birdie has no business being in the Dark Wood.”

“I’m not-!”

“You are. Furthermore, you are a troublesome piece of baggage who doesn’t have the sense to stay where he’s supposed to!”

“Then why did you even bother saving me?!?!”

The Beast opened his mouth to answer, but stopped himself before he answered. Looking away he whispered, “You remind me of someone important.”

“Who-!”

“ **None of your fucking business!** ......Either way, it looks like you’re stuck here for the time being.”

Matthew was greatly alarmed by this. “There’s no way I’m staying here with you!!!”

“Oh you have very little choice in the matter Birdie.”

Grabbing his left leg, he dragged Matthew toward him across the cot with his good arm. Picking up Matthew’s right foot more carefully, he examined the ankle. “Well at least the swelling went down.” He placed the foot back down. “You didn’t just hurt your ankle, you broke it. Badly. Tore a few tendons and ligaments too. Bottom line, it’s gonna take at least two months, maybe more before you can walk let alone travel with it. You can’t return to your village, and I’m not carrying your ass the two weeks it would take to get to the closest village across the border.”

The Beast stood up from his crouch and went to the shelves. Picking up his own cup, he filled it with water and took a few gulps. He walked across the room and rested his injured arm on the hearth mantle. The cup still in his left hand. “More importantly, by the time you can travel on that ankle it will already be winter. Travelling in the Dark Wood during winter is suicide. You think the predators out there are vicious now? Hah! Wait til food gets scarce.”

The Beast looked at Matthew with a teasing smirk. “So until spring, looks like you and I are gonna be snuggle buddies.” He took another gulp.

“I refuse. I **am not** staying here. Thank you for helping me, but I can make it on my own.”

Matthew made to roll onto his feet, but before he could the Beast had cornered him against the back wall. His knees dug into the cot on either side of Matthews’ hips. Both hands lay flat against the walls’ surface, effectively trapping him. The Beast’s shirtless chest contorted with his controlled and angry breathing; scarlet eyes glowing with emotion. His lips pulled back in a snarl; pointed canines bared. It happened so fast, Matthew was pinned before the cup hit the ground.

“You don’t seem to understand the situation you’re in. Right now, I am **the only thing** keeping your pathetic and helpless ass alive. You step one foot outside that door and those wolves, not to mention the hundreds of other monsters out there, will devour you. And some aren’t nice enough to wait til you die before they start.” He took one hand and raised Matthew’s chin to meet his gaze. “I didn’t go through the trouble of defeating a pack alpha and getting this injury just so you can wonder off and die anyway. So do you get it? _Little Birdie_?”

Gathering up more courage than he thought he possessed, Matthew bit down on the fingers holding his chin. 

The Beast didn’t even flinch. Much to Matthews’ chagrin, he gave an appreciative low whistle. “So the Birdie has talons, does he?” He ripped his hand from between Matthews’ teeth and licked the blood off his own fingers. “Should make for an interesting winter then.”

The Beast got up and walked toward the door. Before he stepped through it, Matthew made one final statement. “So in the end, I’m nothing more than your prisoner.”

Turning his head toward Matthew over his shoulder, the Beast answered. “If that is what it takes to keep you alive.” And saying so, he closed the door behind him; trapping Matthew inside.


	7. Chapter #5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors’ Note: Hello Everyone! We’re back! Hope you all are enjoying the story so far. In this chapter we get a little into the hierarchy of wolf packs. Challenged did some research to write this, but she took some liberties to make it fit with the story. These are no ordinary wolves after all. (^^)

 

**_What the hell is wrong with you?!?!_ ** _Winter is coming, your busiest time of year and what do you do? You get yourself injured saving a pretty little package and end up with fifteen new mouths to feed in the process! Gott verdammt my sentimental heart! It’s a wonder it hasn’t gotten me killed by now. It should not matter if he reminds me of mien bruder. If he finds out who I am I’ll have to kill him anyway. Maybe it would have been better to leave him to the wolves………_

These thoughts dominated the Beast’s mind as he walked back across the clearing. Gilbird left his perch in the pine tree next to the cabin and glided down to land on the Beast’s left shoulder. Once there, he used his beak to ruffle through his companions’ silver locks. The black eagle always seem to know when his friend needed comfort. After so many years together, the tenacious fiend could practically read the Beast’s mind.

The Beast reached up to stroke Gilbird’s head. “I know buddy, I know. I’m alright. Just disappointed in myself for listening to my heart and not my head.”

And oh did the little Birdie stir something in the Beast. A certain protectiveness he hadn’t felt in a long time. It was an odd feeling to. The young man reminded the Beast of his brother. He had the same blonde hair, though it was long and shaggy with one single strand curling out of the top of his head; whereas his brother’s had been short.

Upon their first meeting last night, the Beast had thought they shared the same blue eyes as well. However, in the fresh light of the morning, he now know they were not blue at all. His eyes were beautiful light shade of violet.

But, what truly make the Beast compare the two, was the blonde’s abundance of apparent fear and innocence. From the moment he turned around wielding the axe, the Beast felt a disturbing mixture of attraction and protectiveness.

While one part of him wanted to protect and cherish him like he did his brother, the other was simply drawn to him as a person.

_I’ve been alone too long. It’s a wonder I haven’t lost myself out here completely……not that there was much humanity left in me when I got here either._

The Beast made his way to the center of the circle the pack was laying in. Genoveva or just “Geno” as the Beast had dubbed her, trotted next to him in a display of status.  Raising his head he howled the call to hunt. Leaving Gilbird to guard their prisoner. The pack set out; the Beast in the lead with Geno, then the Betas, and the Subordinates following behind.

With the Beautiful white she-wolf running beside him, the Beast was reminded of an even more pressing headache. Wolves governed themselves through displays of aggression and dominance. The more aggressive, the higher your status; and if someone challenged the status quo, the fight was on.

To say the pack was in disarray would be a monumental understatement. Very rarely are Alpha members challenged and in the space of twelve hours the Dark Wood Pack had experience not one, but **two** challengers. By killing the previous Alpha, the Beast had claimed his position within the pack; and by putting Birdie in his “den”, the Beast had all but claimed the young man as his female. The rest of the pack might not see it that way, but Geno clearly saw it as a challenge for her position. The Beast had not lied when he said Birdie would not survive if he left the safety of the cabin. Geno will kill him to defend her position.

Which led to the Beast’s next problem. Wolves gave birth to pups in the spring, and only one female had the right to bare pups in the pack. Anytime now Geno would go into heat and every male wolf for miles around would come to mate her. If the Beast let another male claim “his Alpha female”, he would lose his already tentative hold as Alpha of the Pack. He could always mate her himself and end her heat…………

_Yah not happening. Gott what a mess._

The Beast caught the scent of a black bear and pulled his teeth into a feral grin. Changing direction, he led his pack on the hunt for their prey.

It was past midday before the pack finished and headed back toward their new camp. The Beast carried back enough meat to feed himself, Gilbird, and the Little Birdie for the next few days. The still bloody hide and some bones were draped over his back as he led the way home.

The view that greeted him once he broke back into the clearing, was that of a certain prisoner attempting the get past his eagle guard. Standing in the open doorway, his arms raised and bloodied with scratches; his face turned away. The eagle hovered as it flapped in the doorway, pecking and scratching whenever the young man attempted to get past him.

The Beast sighed and ran a bloodied hand down the length of his face. “Haaaaaahhh. A bothersome little pretty package indeed.”

 

** German Translations: **

  1. Gott = God
  2. Verdammt = Damn
  3. Mein = Mine/My
  4. Bruder = Brother



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors’ Note: Hey Guys! Sorry this one is a little shorter. This chapter is important for the stories’ conflict development and we will try and update soon so please don’t hate us! If you like the story so far, let us know in the comments/reviews section! They fuel our updates! (^^)


	8. Chapter #6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! This is Challenged. We are going to get dark again in this chapter. Even if you aren’t squeamish about gore and whatnot, might wanna have some fluff on hand. Lord knows I needed it after I wrote this. I never wanna visit the dark side of YouTube for animal attack videos again. :’( No flames please! I’m sure I’ll see plenty in Hell after writing this. Enjoy!

**_Two Weeks Later……Escape Attempt Number Twenty-One……Failed…….Escape Attempt  Number Twenty-Two……In Progress……_ **

****

_Come on Matthew! You can do this! It’s just a bird after all! ………A Giant…….Black……War Eagle…….. **Fuck.**_

Matthew mentally prepare himself to once again face the bane of his imprisonment. The black bastard was always thwarting his attempts. Even when the Beast, the pack, or both left the home camp; _he_ was always there. Well, today would be different. Today Matthew had a plan.

Matthew took a fortifying breath and swung the door wide open. Right on que, the great brute flew at him to hover in the doorway. Exactly where Matthew wanted him. He only hesitated for a second. Before the eagle could react, Matthew threw the black bear hide blanket over the eagle; incapacitating and trapping the bird temporarily. The Pack out on their own to hunt and the Beast nowhere in sight, there was no one there to stop him. Matthew made a break for it at a speedy hobble.

He headed north toward Krasnyy Territory. The village would be closer, but he would rather be dead than that sick Sherriff’s possession. If death was the price of his freedom he would gladly pay it. But hopefully that wouldn’t be the case since _this_ time he was more prepared. Around his waist was a woven hemp rope with a few items attached to it; a rock knife, some food and most important, an animal’s stomach filled with drinking water.

Through the trees Matthew continued to hobble, but his injury hampered him a great deal and he was already tired. _Being confined to a single room for days on end did wonders for my stamina._ Before Matthew made it even one mile from the clearing, the black bastard let out a screech; alerting the Beast of his escape. Matthew picked up the pace.

About two miles out, the eagle guardsman caught up to him. He circled overhead, but did not descend. Every few minutes the black brute let out another screech; enabling the Beast to better track them. If he didn’t come up with something soon, Matthew new attempt number twenty-two would fail too.

**Too Late**. Matthew could already hear the sound of eight feet loping toward him and gaining fast. Matthew sighed and looked behind himself, slowing down in resignation of another failed attempt at freedom.

**It was not the Beast**.

Nearly upon Matthew was a giant and hungry Brown Bear.

Matthew’s heart sank in absolute dread. He knew he was going to be eaten alive. With his injured ankle, he stood no chance of getting away from it.

_I’m going to die……._

He knew his death would be gruesome. Many of the hunters in the village had met their end in the Dark Wood. They knew the risk and went in, but they didn’t pray they wouldn’t die. They prayed that when something did get them, it was another predator and not a bear. Other predators typically delivered the death blow before digging in. Bears were more _impatient_.

As the Bear caught up to him, Matthew found himself thinking of the Beast. _He won’t be saving me this time._

The bear bellowed as it bore down on Matthew; pushing him to the ground. He fell on his back and raised his arms in a weak attempt to shield himself. The bear bit through his injured ankle and dragged him along the ground.  Matthew screamed in pain. Excited, the bear pulled him underneath it. Matthew tried to crawl away, flipping over onto his stomach. The bear caught him, biting down into his left shoulder. With its right paw it raked its’ claws down Matthew’s back. Digging deep shreds into his flesh. Teeth still clamped into his should, the bear shook its’ head; tearing muscle and tendons.

Defeated, terrified, and in more pain than he thought existed, Matthew gave up and went limp. The bear continued to shake its’ head, pressing its’ weight down on its’ prey. The entire attack happened in the space of forty-five seconds.

_Please…….just let me die already._

The bear removed its’ teeth from Matthew’s shoulder and sniffed his hair, ruffling his matted and bloody strands. Drool fell down and slithered into Matthew’s ear. Its’ battle won, the bear stood up on its’ hind legs to survey the immediate area. Matthew remained where he was and waited for the bear to come back down. He waited for the full weight of the bear to come down and crack his ribs. With any luck, the bones would split and stab into his hear or lungs; killing him much more quickly. Matthew closed his eyes and breathed shallowly into the dirt.

His muscles tensed up and his eyes shot open when an eagle screeched directly above him. The bear let out a great roar and stumbled back a few steps away from Matthew.

Matthew peeked up over his shoulder. What he saw completely dumbfounded him. His eagle guard had come to his rescue. The large black avian had swooped in on the bear, pecking and scratching the bear with its talons. Going in for another go at the bear, the eagle raked its’ talons against the right side of the bear’s face. Running its’ talons along the bears’ eye, a single talon got caught in its socket. Matthew’s black protector was tethered to the bear and could not release itself.

Enraged, the bear swiped at the eagle. The hollow bone of the tethered leg split in two, amputating the taloned foot from the rest of him. The black avian screeched again as it was thrown several feet from the force of the blow. The eagle crashed to the ground and remained unmoving; the blood form his missing limb soaking into the ground.

The bear was blinded in its’ right eye. It shook its’ head and bellowed in confusion. Seeing a small chance, Matthew’s adrenaline kicked in. He rolled again, this time onto his back in an attempt to stand. He sat up and as he did the bear suddenly stopped moving. It shifted its’ head toward Matthew and drew in a large breath.

Matthew froze. He knew he’d lost his chance. If the bear couldn’t smell the fear rolling off of him, it could definitely hear the deafening sound of his pounding heart.

The bear sniffed again and turned its’ head to the side; toward a thick grove of trees and away from Matthew. From the trees emitted an ungodly, guttural growl. It was deep and disturbing; the sound of assured death and despair. Slowly, the shadows shifted and from their depths emerged two blood scarlet orbs. Orbs locked on the unmoving black eagle. White, pointed teeth appeared next followed by white-ish silver hair. Slowly the Beast was born from the darkness. **_And he was pissed._**

****

**Russian Translations:**

  1. Krasnyy = Red



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! Is everyone okay? Don’t worry I already wrote the rough draft of the next chapter so we won’t keep you in suspense for long! Let us know what you think so far in the comments/reviews section! Remember, hearing from our readers is what fuels our updates! (^^)
> 
> Special Note: Thanks you again to all our readers! This story has gotten some great responses. We haven’t been writing fanfictions for long and honestly, weren’t expecting to be liked at all. It really means a lot to us! A special shout out to Jordan_Banana_Phant on AO3! Talent and I took two days to rest and didn’t check on either of our Fanfiction.net or AO3 accounts. When we got together for a work date we looked at our stats and low and behold there were not one, not two, but four spanking new comments for this story! (00) Needless to say we just about had twin heart attacks! And not only that! This dear soul had taken the time to write a comment for every single chapter thus far at the time! I won’t lie, we were so surprised we had laughing fits for a good ten minutes. So here’s to you Jordan_Banana_Phant you glorious bastard! May the Yaoi fanfiction gods smile on you for many moons to come! XD


	9. Chapter #7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys! Here you go! We weren't joking when we said you wouldn’t have to wait long! Muwahahaha! Round two with the bear! Will Matthew make it out alive? Will the Beast defeat the bear? Let’s find out! Again if you read Chapter 6 you know what to expect in the gore department. Fluff on hand just in case! XD

**_The Beast was pissed_ ** _._

Shifting his attention to the bear, the Beast advanced on it. He ran at the bear; drawing back a hand to strike with his lengthened finger nails. The bear stood back on its’ hind legs again and roared at the oncoming threat. When the Beast was close enough, the bear came down and swiped its’ paw as it came. The blow met the Beasts’ side and he went flying into a tree. His head hit the wood with a resounding crack. Blood ran down the rivets of the bark in crimson patterns.

Dazed, the Beast paused in his assault and the bear took advantage. The bear pinned the Beast to the tree; it’s broad shoulder boring into his stomach. The bear rammed into him repeatedly, tossing its’ head and bending his ribs. The terrible sound of their battle shaking the surrounding foliage.

The Beast gasped for air, the blow to his stomach knocking the wind out of him. His lips snaked back over his exposed canines, but unlike his last battle; he wasn’t smiling. His eyes were crazy and wild; like a starved and feral animal.

The Beast swiped away at the neck ad face of the bear, but it did nothing. The angry and wounded animal was not deterred; its’ hide was too thick. One of the Beast’s swipes ran across his foe’s injured eye; the ripped eyeball got caught on his claw-like nail and popped out its’ socket.

The bear roared and backed up a few steps, giving the Beast enough room to slip away from the trunk. Circling the bear, he came around behind it. Taking a running start, he leaped up and onto the bears’ back. The bear did spins and bucked to try and dislodge its’ rider. The Beast dug his nails into the fleshy shoulder muscles and held on tight.

The Beast brought down his teeth on the bears’ neck; gritting his teeth around the bears’ spinal cord. Gradually he applied more pressure and drew his teeth together. The Bear stood up one last time in a desperate effort to save itself, but it was no use. The Beast clacked his teeth together, and the bears’ spinal cord shattered between his jaws.

The Bear collapsed. The Beast stayed where he was until the bear stilled completely. He stayed there for ten minutes while the bear slowly suffocated to death.

Removing his teeth from the dead bears’ neck, the Beast slowly straightened and stood. Blood dripping down his face, the Beast looked at Matthew for the first time. Glaring hateful eyes at him, he slowly licked the blood around his mouth and chin. Turning his head away from Matthew, the Beast quickly strode around the bears’ carcass and to his fallen eagle friend.

The Beast could feel tears pricking at the back of his eyes. As he looked down at his broken family member, his already cracked heart began to crumble. “Oh Gilbird, I’m so sorry buddy.”

……..*weak scree*…….

“…….Gilbird?”

…….*stronger scree*…….

**“Gilbird!!!”**

The Beast carefully picked up the surprisingly still alive eagle. Holding him to his chest, his feathered friend began ruffling his messy hair with his beak. Tearing a strip from his pants, the Beast gently tied off the eagle’s bleeding leg.

“I should have known you weren’t dead. A guy as awesome as you would never been done in by a measly bear!” The Beast grinned and stroked the top of the eagle’s head.

“Is your bird okay?” Matthew asked from his spot on the ground.

The Beast stopped. For thirty seconds he tried to reign in his anger. Staying motionless in his kneeling position, he just breathed. When he was mostly certain he wouldn’t disembowel the young man, he placed his eagle back on the ground, stood, and turned around.

In that moment Matthew truly didn’t know what was more frightening; the sight of the bear running him down, or the Beast stalking toward him now.

Grabbing Matthew by his hair, he hauled him to his feet. The Beast bent down so his face was centimeters from Matthews’. His hand came up to snake around Matthew’s neck. Squeezing his fingers, the Beast applied pressure down on his ceratoid artery. Matthew had trouble breathing and his vision grew fuzzy. When the Beast spoke Matthew could feel the chill in his words on the Beast’s breath.  

“Why?......Why is it so hard for you to stay in the **gott verdammt** cabin?”

He did not yell. He did not scream. Instead he said it in such a calm and cold tone. A testament to how truly in trouble Matthew was.

“I-I, um…….”

***Mewl!***

Both men turned their heads toward the direction of the cabin. Before them appeared a scrawny, malnourished albino brown bear cub. Not even a year old, the little tuft of white fur plodded up to its’ dead mother. Poking its’ muzzle into the sows’ fur, it gave out more distress mewls. The sound only it could make to cry.

The Beast sighed and looked at Matthew. The Beast snatched the rock blade still attached to Matthews’ makeshift belt. Placing it in his hand, the Beast strode over to the mourning cub and picked him up. Walking back over to Matthew, he held the cubs’ head to present its’ neck to Matthew and uttered two simple words.

“Kill it.”

Matthew could believe what he had just heard. “W-what?”

The Beast took a step closer to Matthew. “You heard me. Kill it.”

Matthew looked at the knife, to the struggling cub, back to the Beast. He shook his head and took a few steps back into another tree; the rough bark pressing into his weeping wounds. “No. No no no no no. I don’t want to. I won’t!”

The Beast advanced right after him; pinning him to the tree. The cub squished between their two bodies.

“Oh we are well past what you _want_ Little Birdie. You cause all of this. You repeatedly tried to escape after I warned you this would happen. But you did not listen. You escaped. Your actions nearly caused not only your near death, but Gilbirds’ and mine as well. And you-,” He switched the cub to only his left hand and snatched the food stuffs from Matthews’ belt with his injured right. “Brought this food into the wood for starving animals to track.”

The Beast threw the food to the side and turned back to Matthew. “ **You** are the one that all but lit a beacon for any predator to come after. This cub is not old enough to survive on its own and will either starve to death or get eaten. Take some fucking responsibility for your utter stupidity and kill it humanly before that happens.”

The cub still cried in the Beasts arms. Matthew understood what the Beast was saying. It might be hard to accept, but he was right. He felt utterly ashamed of himself. But if he were truly to take responsibility, he couldn’t take the easy route to right his wrongs. And killing the cub would be the simplest and easiest route to take.

Looking up at the Beast, he made one final attempt. “I will take care of it.”

The Beast blinked a few times. “What?”

Matthew smiled, a little hopeful. “I can take care of him.”

The Beast scowled and glared daggers at Matthew. “As you have proven oh so thoroughly, you can’t even take care of your own verdammt hide.”

Matthew pressed on. “No no. Listen. We can keep him in the cabin with me. He can have leftovers from your hunts. Maybe the bits the wolves won’t eat?”

“Your idiocy ceases to amaze me.” The Beast drawled sarcastically. “Alright, and what will you do about the wolves what will happen when _this_ grows into _that_?!” The Beast pointed from the cub to its massive dead mother.

“I will train him!”

The Beast couldn’t help himself; he laughed. “Kesesesesesese! Train him? Are you kidding me?!?! It’s not a hound, it’s a fucking bear!”

Matthew squirmed under the Beasts scrutiny. Looking for an argument he offered, “There was a travelling fair from Krasnyy that came through the village once. They had a trained bear with them. If it’s possible I should at least try!”

The Beast scratched some of the drying blood off his chin. “And what if you can’t train it?” He brought his face right up to Matthews’. “What if you can’t train him or one day he decides he’s _hungry_? What will you do then?”

Matthew looked over at the dead bear a few feet away. His soul shook from what he had just experienced. But it was his fault. Just as the Beast said, it was his fault all of this had happened. His decisions and actions had led to this outcome. He had already caused one bears’ death today; he wasn’t about to let her cub join her if he could help it.

“If it gets too big or unsafe, then we will kill it. You sell some of your pelts from hunting right? Wouldn’t you get a better price for a grown bears’ hide than a cubs’? Especially a white one.”

The Beast cocked his head. “That is true. But what about the wolves?”

“If he’s too big to be in the cabin, he’s big enough to handle a few wolves.”

“You still have a few problems Birdie.” The Beast pulled his head back slightly. He looked down at the cub then back to Matthew. “One, he will still starve if he only gets scraps. And wolves don’t leave anything behind when they eat. And two, it doesn’t matter how big the bear is. If there is a bear in a wolf’s den, the entire pack will attack and they won’t stop until either the bear is dead. Or they are.”

The Beast reached out his right hand and threaded his fingers through Matthew’s hair. “I believe the pack and hunting fall to me. So what are you going to offer me in return?”

Matthew thought for a minute. Looking down into the scared eyes of the cub made the decision for him. “If you help me take care of the cub, I promise to never escape again.”

Matthew looked up at the Beast for his answer.

“That’s not good enough Birdie.”

Matthew’s heart dropped. What more could he want? Matthew didn’t exactly have much to offer him. _Only one way to find out._

“What do you want from me?”

By now the mewling cub had stopped squirming and lay limply between them, resigned to its assumed fate. It didn’t make a sound from between them as the Beast pressed even closer into Matthew.

Boring his own into Matthew’s eyes, he spoke two words; a command within itself. “Your obedience.”

Matthew was utterly confused. “My what?”

“Your obedience. During the time you spend with me, you will do exactly what I tell you. Everything I tell you. Exactly when I tell you. And I do mean _everything_. If you break our deal even once, the cub dies.”

Matthew didn’t need time to mull it over. He knew this was the best he was going to get. “Deal.”

The Beast smirked down at him. “Kesesesese. You are going to regret this.”

 

**German Translations:**

  1. Gott = God
  2. Verdammt = Damn/Dammit



**Russian Translations:**

  1. Krasnyy = Red



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Everyone lived! …….Except Mama Bear. X( We know some of you thought we killed off Gilbird, but we just couldn’t do it. Anyway hope you guys are still enjoying the story! If you like what you’re reading, comment or review! Remember, hearing from you guys is what fuels our updates! (^^)


	10. Chapter #8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, we’re back! We have some more action with the pack in this chapter. Again we did do research on the subject, but some liberties were taken to make it work with the story. Not everything will be completely accurate and representative of actual wolf pack behavior; though we made an effort to make it as close as possible. Enjoy!

_Well this sucked._

Three weeks since the bear attack. Three weeks of lying in bed with a misbehaving bear cub and a snooty, _back-talking_ eagle. Three weeks of being trapped (again) between the arguing pair. Matthew was supposed to be resting and healing. But how the heck was he supposed to do that if neither of them would shut the hell up?! The cub _always_ wanted more food and the damn eagle _always_ had to have the last word.

Well the sinew stitches were coming out today and the first thing Matthew was doing was going outside.

It took three weeks to get the wounds in his back and ankle to close properly. The bears’ bite nearly hit its’ mark, narrowly missing his heart. Thankfully the ankle had only re-broke in the same place. He could hobble around again, but putting too much weight on it was extremely painful. The real issue were the wounds on his back. The slash marks cut deep and required multiple layers of stitches. Stiches that greatly hindered his mobility.

_Not anymore they won’t._

“This is gonna hurt Birdie. You ready?”

“Just get them out! I can’t take it anymore!”

“Alright. Hold still.”

The Beast had Matthew pinned under him on the cot; lying on his stomach. Very carefully, he used a rock-blade to sever the first stitch ad gently began pulling it out of Matthew’s back.

“Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!” Matthew arched his back at the itchy burn the withdrawal caused.

The Beast stopped pulling, put down the blade, and used his now free hand to push Matthew back down. “I said hold still! Maybe next time you decide to do something stupid, you’ll remember what this feels like.”

Matthew only replied with a huff before gripping the mattress to brace himself. The Beast started pulling again and slowly the sinew strip emerged from Matthew’s flesh.

The Beast held up the darkened strip in victory. “One down. Only a hundred to go!”

Matthew whimpered down into the mattress.

An hour or so later they were finally done. After removing the last strip of sinew, the Beast wiped the trace amounts of blood from Matthew’s back and wrapped his torso and shoulder with cloth salvaged from the tattered remains of Matthews’ shirt.

“All done.” The Beast punctuated his statement with a pat to Matthew’s back.

Grunting from the pat, Matthew gingerly sat up on his knees and stretched. _Aaaahhh. Much better._ “Does removing stitches usually hurt that much? I don’t remember them hurting when I _got_ them.”

“You were in shock by the time we got back to the camp. You couldn’t feel much of anything at that point. And no, removing stitches doesn’t usually hurt.” As he spoke the gathered up the used sinew strips and water he’d used to clean Matthew’s back. “I had to use rough sinew to close our wounds. The stuff I use to stitch leather and clothes with. It usually has bits of bone and cartilage in its’ fibers.”

“Well, why didn’t you use something else?”

The Beast gave Matthew a peeved look at the question. “Because, Birdie. I don’t have the magical ability to randomly pull medical supplies out of mein arsch. And forgive me, but for _some_ reason I thought you had enough self-preservation to not get attacked by a **verdammt bear!”**

“Oh……” Matthew hung his head.

“Ja. Oh.” The Beast opened the door and walked outside to feed the pack the used sinew.

Matthew saw his chance and hopped up, wobbling out the door. Closing it behind him to keep the cub in, Matthew turned his face up to bask in the fresh sunlight.

“Hhaaahh! Finally!”

“What are you doing?”

Matthew brought his face back down to a glaring Beast. “I’m enjoying the sunlight, thank you.”

“I don’t remember giving you permission to leave the cabin.” The Beast stalked toward Matthew.

Matthew stood his ground. “We had a deal. I gave you my word I won’t escape. There is no reason to keep me cooped up in that cabin!”

“As I recall the deal was you would do anything and _everything_ I tell you to, _when_ I tell you to. I don’t remember that including you leaving the cabin. And there is a _very_ good reason I keep you in there.”

Matthew looked up into the Beasts’ eyes. He was standing so close to him, their chests nearly touched. “And what reason would that be?”

“The-!” The Beast didn’t finish. He stopped short as his nostrils flared, eyes widening. Whipping his head around, he looked toward the white she-wolf across the clearing. “Scheisse.”

Geno was acting very peculiar. Instead of her usual abrasive, alpha behavior she was exhibiting behavior used by the Omegas of the group. The male wolves circles her, some nipping at her sides and others licking her nethers. She moved to bite back at them, but not enough to deter their advances. Still more tried to mount her from behind.

“Wha…what’s going on?” Matthew asked in utter confusion. He didn’t understand the behavior, but he knew it wasn’t normal. There was ore tension in the pack.

“She’s gone into heat.” The Beast moved towards the Alpha female. “Birdie. Go in the cabin and drag the bed away from the wall.”

“Why?”

 **“Just do it!”** The Beast bellowed back at him.

As Matthew turned and went back into the cabin, he heard a deep growl. A fight broke out between the males and ungodly snaps, snarls, and yips erupted outside the cabin.

Closing the door behind him, he speed wobbled to the cot. Displacing an indignant eagle, he slowly dragged the heavy object across the dirt floor. Under the mattress was a crude trap door. Matthew knelt down, careful of his injured ankle.

_There’s no way. It’s gotta be just a root cellar…….._

Slowly, with great suspicion and trepidation, Matthew opened the trapdoor and peered down. Pitch black. Without a candle or light he had little choice but to stick he head in for a closer look. Bending down over the opening, he turned his head this way and that. Three dirt walls and a black void in the direction of Matthews’ village.

It meant only one thing. Below the trapdoor was not a single closed room; it lead to an underground tunnel.

**_“ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?!?!?!?!”_ **

Matthew had never been more pissed off; both at the world and himself. Weeks he’d spent fighting both the Beast and that damn bird. Weeks he’d struggled and pried for freedom, when escape was literally right beneath him!

*Knock*Knock*

**“Birdie!”**

*Knock*Knock*

**“Open this door!”**

*Knock*Knock*

_Oh, I’ll open something……_

Leaving the trap door open, Matthew hobbled back over to the door and swung it open.

The Beast rushed in with a squirming and nipping Geno over his shoulder. His forehead had scuff marks from knocking it on the door. As soon as he passed the threshold, he directed Matthew, “Close it! Now!”

Matthew looked out the entrance and seeing the male wolves all charging in their direction, didn’t need to be told twice. He slammed the door shut as the Beast moved across the cabin. Kneeling with Geno in his arms, he shoved her through the trapdoor and closed it. With one hand, he yanked the mattress back into its’ usual spot. As an afterthought, the Beast placed Gilbird on the cot for good measure.

The charging wolves rammed into the door seconds after the trapdoor was covered. The wooden barrier bowed with the force of the charge. Intent on breeding their female, the males continued to scratch and dig into the door. Growls and snarls punctuated their assault, but the door held.

“I am beyond mad at you!” Matthew hissed from his position next to the mantle. The bear cub took refuge behind his legs in the fireplace.

Breathing deeply from exertion, the Beast glanced up at his prisoner with a half serious, bemused grin. “Keseseseses. Ja? You’ve detested mein-self since you entered these woods. What else is new?”

“You _lied_ to me.” Matthew nearly vibrated with rage. Pointing his finger at the being before him, he took a step toward him.

The Beast sat back on his heals from his position by the cot. He ran a scratched-up hand through his hair, rolling his eyes at Matthew. “I have never lied to you Birdie. But for arguments sake, what did I lie to you about?”

“You said there was no safe way for me to leave the Dark Wood without you taking me, but you had a fucking _escape tunnel_ here this whole time!” Matthew could feel tears of anger pricking at the back of his eyes. Shaking his pointed finger at the Beast he continued, “There are no animals down in the tunnel! I could have just walked through it and out of the Dark Wood, but instead you have me _imprisoned_ in this rummage bin!”

Matthew knew he had made a mistake the moment the words left his mouth. The Beast stopped grinning, not even his feral smile graced his lips. He stood up slowly on his toes with his head tilted to the side in anger; his nostrils flared. His eyes were narrowed as he prowled toward Matthew. The Beast backed him up against the fireplace mantle. He place his hands against the cabin wall on either side of Matthew; leaving him with no escape.

Looking down his nose at Matthew, the Beast lectured him in a misleadingly calm and crisp tone. “Listen here you Verwӧhnte kleine Gӧr. I didn’t lie. Not once. That tunnel only leads to two places. One way goes about a mile in toward your village. The same one hosting the officials you’re running from. _Remember?_ The other path leads deeper west into the Dark Wood. Both exits are hidden and blocked off so nothing can enter or leave. That being said, I can’t guarantee something hasn’t managed to dig their way in.”

The Beast tucked his right hand behind Matthews’ ear. He grabbed the fleshy shell and forced his face upward, toward the Beasts’ own face. Their noses grazed each other. “As for mein rubbish bin. Your ungrateful little arsch is lucky to have it. It took me two years to build this cabin with mein bare hands. Though if your prissy little sensibilities prefer sleeping outside in winter, be my guest. I’ll even lend you mein old tree. It’s very special. Its’ branches grew in such a way the wind only hits one side of your body. Ja?”

Matthew felt the tears slide past his eyes and down his cheeks. He didn’t whimper or sob. He didn’t avert his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

The Beast let out a long breath, his anger dissipated at Matthews’ tears. “You should be.”

Matthew broke eye contact to look down at the floor in shame and frustration. “I can’t believe you had another way out and I didn’t even think to look for it. All that effort, wasted. I can’t even use it now! I promised not to leave.”

“Kesesese. I told you, you’d regret the deal.”

“Oh, shut it!”

“Kesesese.” With his anger appeased the Beasts eyes became softer, almost endearing. He removed his grip on Matthews’ ear and moved his hand back into the young mans’ wavy locks. Gently, he stroked the Blonde strands there. “I only do this because it is necessary to keep you alive. My conscience might be tattered, but it’s still there. Understand?”

Matthew looked up into the Beasts’ entreating gaze for a silent moment. Giving out an exasperated huff, he flopped his head to rest against the Beasts clothed chest. _He smells like pine trees and danger._ “ **FFFiiinnneee**. I get it already. You’re not some evil cretin out to get me. The deal doesn’t give me much choice, but I’ll try to be less troublesome.”

The rumble of the Beasts’ silent laugh vibrated through to Matthew. “It’s a start.”

They stayed that way for a minute. Neither one of them sure how or if they even _wanted_ to move. It had been so long since the Beast had had any physical contact with another human being and Matthew……Well, Matthew wasn’t sure what he was doing. _He’s so warm._

The moment ended when the Beast stiffened under Matthews’ forehead. He looked up at his protector. The Beast had his head cocked to the side as he listened intently. “Beast?”

“I don’t hear them at the door.”

It was true. The wolves no longer tore at the door. The Beast pulled his hand out of Matthews’ hair and marched purposely toward the door.

Mathew followed close behind him. “Maybe they gave up.”

“Not with the female in heat. Something else is going on.”

The Beast made sure his body would block the entrance and shield the other occupant before pulling the door open. No wolves. Stepping outside he searched the clearing for his pack. No wolves. In fact the entire forest seemed to be completely void of wildlife. Not even the birds or insects made a sound. Turning his eyes to the sky he took in a large breath through his nose. “……..Birdie. I’m letting you out of the cabin this once. I need you to gather as much fire-wood from the stacks behind the cabin and pile it inside. Can you do that?”

Matthew stepped out of the cabin and up behind the Beast apprehensively. Something in the Beast’s tone didn’t sound right. “Oh course…….but why?”

The Beast looked over his shoulder at his pretty little package. Both his mouth and brow set in a grim line. “There’s a storm coming. A bad one.”

 

** German Translations: **

  1. Das Biest = the Beast
  2. Mein = Mine
  3. Ja = Yes
  4. Arsch = Ass
  5. Verdammt = Damn
  6. Schiesse = Shit
  7. Verwӧhnte kleine Gӧr = Spoiled Little Brat



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! Guess what guys! This is the longest chapter yet! Fair warning: we are getting into the meaty part of the story now, so some (not all) of the chapters are going to be longer from here on out. You guys don’t mind right? We will try to make sure the chapter length won’t impede speedy updates! We know you guys appreciate them!  
> Talent and I are pretty excited for the upcoming chapters. Matthew and the Beast in a snowstorm! How will they survive?! I personally vote snuggles. Intense snuggling. =_=  
> If you like what you read let us know in the comments/reviews section! Hearing from your guys fuels our speedy updates! (^^)


	11. Chapter #9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Challenged here! First of all Merry belated Christmas and Happy Holidays! I apologize for taking so long to update. I was surprised with bus tickets to Canada to see my extended family and have an early Christmas with them. I have not been able to spend Xmas with them in 10 years, so I went and spent time with them instead of writing. Plus the chapter ended up being really long. I hope you guys understand. Anyway, please enjoy the fluff! Hooray for snuggles! ......and darker stuff. (0-0)  
> *laughs/cries manically* Is it possible to actually feel your soul turn black? *shrugs*  
> Fair warning: There are going to be a lot of sudden POV changes in this chapter. We have also divided this chapter into 3 “parts”; so please watch for that. We tried to make it as painless and easy to see as possible. Enjoy the chapter and look at the bottom for more notes and translations! (^^)

_Days of Blizzard confinement: 2_

_Days of confinement for the Beast: 2_

_Days of confinement for Matthew: **TOO DAMN MANY!!!**_

 

**Un-fricking believable.** Every time. _Every time_ some semblance of escape was within his grasp, his happy butt landed right back in the damn cabin!

_At least the broody bastard is trapped in here with me this time._

The Beast was not taking his confinement well. Two days of it and he was already at his wits end. He was right about the storm though. The white monstrosity hit them hard and without warning. It took less than ten minutes for the ground to shine white and visibility to cease existing. With the blizzard outside and the she-wolf below them, they were sandwiched between the two threats. 

_Serves him right._

The Beast seemed greatly agitated. More so than being confined for just two days warranted. Was he just used to doing a lot of activity and had pent up energy? Or did he not do well in closed spaces? His pacing like a caged animal back and forth suggested the latter. It didn’t help improve Matthew’s mood at all. Back and forth, back and forth; from the fireplace to the opposite wall. Over and over again, he repeated his trek. The thumping of his lumbering footsteps reverberated through Matthew’s skull; causing a massive headache.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. **Thump.** He couldn’t take it anymore. “For heavens’ sake. Just. Stop!”

The Beast stopped midstride to stare at Matthew.  His brow furrowed in confusion; his arms and shoulders raised in a kind of half-shrug. “What?”

Matthew pointed an indignant finger at him and huffed. “Your pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth. It’s annoying and it’s giving me a headache. Stop it!”

The Beast rolled his eyes and lowered his hands to his sides. “Tch. Whatever Birdie.” He stood in place for a few second before going over to one of the shelves in the wall. He scanned through the items for a moment before carefully pulling out the worn book placed there. A small smile graced his lips as he turned, leaned his back against the wall, and started to page through its’ contents.

Matthew silently watched him out of the corner of his eye from a reclining position on the cot.  The Feathered Menace rested beside him and Kuma slept in the corner next to the fireplace. He was only interested to make sure the Beast didn’t start pacing again; there was literally nothing else to do. He’d already done everything from watching the pelts dry to naming the bear cub Kumajiro. But when he picked up the book, the Beast gained Matthews’ full attention. His eyes brightened and his heart beat a little faster.

The Beast saw Matthew perk up when he opened the book. The young man stared at the book hungrily. He sat up to a kneeling position and shifted his body forward; to be even that much closer to his quarry. “What is it Birdie?”

Matthew shifted his eyes from the book up to meet the Beasts eyes. “Can you read that?”

The Beast didn’t move except for a sidelong glance in the youths’ direction. “Ja. Why?”

Matthews’ eyes widened and his gaze turned from hungry to ravenous. He looked down to the book, then back up to the Beast. A light blush dusted his cheeks. “Could you…….Could you read it to me?”

The Beast hadn’t been expecting that. His eyes narrowed at Matthew. “Can’t you read?”

Matthew looked down for a moment in embarrassment, but quickly pulled his gaze back up. His blush darkened. “….No….”

The Beast blew out a breath and closed his eyes. Opening them again, he strode over to the cot and sat down next to Matthew on its edge. The young blonde moved to kneel on all fours and leaned in over the Beasts’ arm to get a better look at the book. His body trembled with excitement; his face bright with fascination. If he had had a tail, it would be wagging.

The Beast saw this, groaned, and rolled his head back in exasperation. Sliding across the cot until his spine lined up with the back wall, he hoisted Matthew with him; settling him between his legs and encircling him with his arms. Matthew’s ribs pressed back against his chest and abdomen. The Beast rested his chin on the top of Matthew’s head, his breath ruffling his wavy locks.

Matthew stiffened against him at the action and the Beast drew him in closer. “There you go. Front row seat.”

The Beast was so _warm_. He dwarfed Matthew in size and seemed to surround him completely in his embrace. The fire was a constant presence in the cabin, but couldn’t keep them totally warm with the freezing temperatures outside. Matthew didn’t think he could go back to generating his own heat now.

_He never gets this close to me....... except when he’s pissed._

Matthew wasn’t sure what to do with this. They might have been in close proximity these past weeks, but they barely even _talked_ let alone touched each other. And god did he smell good. Pine trees and….something else. Something dangerous. A special kind of dark musk he couldn’t quite place. The heady scent of an apex predator. Whatever it was, it made Matthew feel stirrings he really shouldn’t.

Matthew was drawn from his thoughts when the Beast cleared his throat. He shifted in his hold and settled in to enjoy the story; his focus turning to the book in front of them.

The Beast felt Matthew shift more fully against him and tried not to shiver from the feel of him sliding against him. “Ah-Hem. The story of _Aschenputtel_. A Gegend Kingdom legend. Author unknown. Origin unknown.”

He flipped to the first page and began to read.

 

“ _A rich man's wife became sick, and when she felt that her end was drawing near, she called her only daughter to her bedside and said, "Dear child, remain pious and good, and then our dear God will always protect you, and I will look down on you from heaven and be near you." With this she closed her eyes and died._ _The girl went out to her mother's grave every day and wept, and she remained pious and good. When winter came the snow spread a white cloth over the grave, and when the spring sun had removed it again, the man took himself another wife. This wife brought two daughters into the house with her. They were beautiful, with fair faces, but evil and dark hearts. Times soon grew very bad for the poor stepchild…_ ……………”

 

They sat like that for hours. Matthew completely entranced by the story and the Beast entranced by him in turn. The young blonde showed a totally different expression with a book in front of him; such utter child-like joy and fascination.  The Beast read the story for Matthew five times before he was satisfied.

He lay the book down beside them on the cot before circling his arms around Matthew’s torso; crossing his arms at his belly button. They sat like that for a few minutes, just basking in the afterglow of the story.

Matthew blushed when he realized they just sat there like that. It felt so nice and somehow not awkward. _Bah, just enjoy the moment._

Said moment ended when Matthew felt the Beast start trembling around him. He lifted his head up to look at the face above him.

The Beast was snickering softly to himself. His eyes crinkled in happiness. “Kesesesesese.”

Matthew arched an eyebrow at the Beast. “Care to explain what’s so funny.”

The Beast looked down into Matthew’s upturned eyes. “Not funny. Not exactly. It’s just so nostalgic reading that story like this. I used to read it to my younger brother when he was little. Kesesesese.” He ran his hand down his face. “Actually. Luddy was worse than you! I once sat with him in the garden and read to him from the first light of morning, to the last rays of dusk. He was _obsessed_ with it. This situation just reminds me of him. It’s nice.”

Matthew stared up at the Beast with sudden realization. Until now, he had never thought of him as anything other than….well, a _Beast_. He was just here, in the forest; always had been. With his teeth, nails, and eyes he must be a type of humanoid species, but that was as far as the thought had gone. He’d been too focused on escape to think on it further.  Now he was suddenly presented with a story of a younger brother and he saw him as something more. He saw him as a whole being. He had family. He had a story.

_His brother’s named Luddy. Oh God…..He must have a name too right? We met weeks ago and we don’t even know each other’s names……._

Matthew felt ashamed of himself for not seeing it. He brought his head back down and stared at the door on the other side of the room. He couldn’t let him see his face. He was too embarrassed. “A brother, huh? I have a brother too. We’re twins, but he thinks he’s older because he slipped out first. His name’s Alfred. He’s training to be a knight right now. He’s been dreaming about it his whole life. I’m so happy he finally got the chance.”

“I hope he has more sense than you. Being a knight is very dangerous. Even with the Kingdom’s crest on your shield, the enemy just uses it as a target.”

“Psh. If nothing else he can just talk the enemy to death. My brother and I might look alike, but we have completely different personalities. I’ve always been the quiet and meek one. Alfred is far more outgoing than I am. He’s always surrounded by people and getting into everything. He can weasel his way through any situation.”

“Hah!” The Beast moved his chin from the top of Matthew’s head to rest it on his left shoulder. “And just what part of you is meek? The part where you sass me every chance you get, or the part where you use every opportunity to go _visit_ the local wildlife?”

Matthew’s blush deepened and he turned his head away in a huff.

“Ah, don’t pout Birdie. It’s an honest question. I think you have more in common with your brother than you think.”

Matthew let out a breath and turned back to the Beast. “What about you? Is your brother like you?”

The Beast shook his head. “Nein. My brother is very different than me. I’ve always been a troublemaker. He follows the rules like his life depends on it. No one would ever guess we are brothers, even standing next to each other. We don’t look alike at all. He has blue eyes and fair blonde hair. I bet he’s one handsome man now.”

A sudden sadness entered the Beast’s eyes.

“Is that normal for your kind? To look so different?”

The Beast furrowed his brow in confusion. “What do you mean Birdie? My kind?”

“You’re not human right? Is it normal in your species for siblings to look so different?”

The Beast pulled his head back slightly in surprise, his brow furrowing even more. “I’m human, Birdie. Why do you think otherwise?”

Matthew’s eyes widened. _He’s human?! B-b-but how?_ “Um, well….. y-you have pointy teeth. And claws. Your hair is white, but you aren’t old. You talk to wolves. And your eyes are red. And-“

“Alright Birdie. I see your point.” The Beast pinched his nose and took a deep breath in. “How much to do know about the Bartian Tribe?”

“You mean the people who used to live in the Dark Wood?”

“Ja.”

“Not much. Just that they used to live here, but then disappeared a little over twenty years ago.”

“Alright. Not much then.” The Beast picked Matthew up and turned him so he was loosely straddling his outstretched legs. “There. Now I can talk to your face, not over your head.”

“I think I liked the other way better.”

The Beast pulled him closer toward him so he now sat on his crotch. “Warmer?”

Matthew narrowed his eyes at him. “That wasn’t the problem.”

The Beast grinned and ruffled his hair. “Ah. Poor Birdie.”

Matthew swatted his hand away. “You were talking about the Bartians.”

“Ja. Luddi and I look so different because we have different mothers. My mother died shortly after my birth from delivery complications. At least that’s the official story. She was a Bartian woman. Centuries ago, a portal opened in the Dark Wood to the Demon Realm. Lupine demons came through the portal and mated with the humans and wolves living here. The offspring born from the human and demon unions inherited some of the demon’s traits and developed Blood Magic; those offspring became the Bartian Tribe. The offspring born from the demon and wolf unions, became the monsters we know as Werewolves.”

Matthew’s eyes widened in shock. _Does that mean he’s the last Bartian?_ “Is that why you have claws and fangs? Because of Blood Magic inherited from your Mother?”

The Beast shook his head. “I don’t have claws or fangs Birdie. I need to be able to fight and protect myself. My Blood Magic gave me many abilities. One of which is extremely strong nails and teeth. When I found myself without a weapon, I resorted to using my nails and teeth. I file them like this so they are more affective.”

Matthew’s mind was blown. _He files them?!_ “What other abilities do you have? Does it have anything to do with your appearance?”

“You mean my hair, skin, and eye coloring?”

Matthew nodded.

“Ja. From what I’ve been told, all Bartians had red eyes, pale skin, and white hair. It’s part of the Blood Magic. We have coloring similar to the Lupine demons. They had white fur and red eyes. It’s also why we look animalistic I suppose.” The Beast shrugged nonchalantly. “As for other abilities, I have heightened senses. I can hear, smell _everything_ , and see farther and better than any regular human. I also see in the dark.”

He pointed a filed nail at his left eye. “That’s why my eyes look so different. The pupil slits like a predators’.”

“What about the wolves? I mean, how are you able to control them?”

“Bartians and wolves have lived together in the Dark Wood for Centuries. Add in the Lupine genes and it’s not hard to understand them. After a few years I figured out their hierarchy system. I don’t control them. They think I’m one of them.”

Matthews’ head hurt. He closed his eyes and raised his hands to rub his temples.

The Beast took his wrists and pulled his hands away. “You okay Birdie?”

Matthew gave the Beast a bemused smile. “Yah. It’s just a lot to take in. I mean, I don’t even know your name and you just laid out your ancestral heritage for me.”

The Beast smiled at the young man in his lap. He moved Matthew’s arms and place them on his shoulders so they circled his neck, before placing his own hands on Matthews’ waist. “Maybe we should change that. We’re stuck in here. Might as well use our time to get to know each other better.”

Matthew bobbed his head. “I agree.” He pulled his right hand and held it out to the Beast. “I’ll start. Hello, I’m Matthew. It’s nice to meet you.”

The Beast stared down at the offered hand, but made no move to grab it.

Matthew waited awkwardly for him to reciprocate. When he didn’t, Matthew began to panic. _Oh no. Did I insult him somehow?_

Matthew started to withdraw his hand, but the Beast snatched it up and shook it. He laced his fingers through Matthews and look up into his eyes.

“….Gil....My name is Gil.”

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………....

 

_I’m in so much deep shit._

Gil looked down at Matthews’ sleeping form. They had talked all through the night; until Matthew dozed off mid-sentence. When’s the last time he’d had such a long conversation? When’s the last time another human had touched _him_? He tried to remember as he stroked Matthews’ hair.

_It has to be before my enslavement so…….. **ten years**_.

Gil let out a long sigh. No wonder he couldn’t stop touching the young man. Matthew didn’t reject him and even showed him affection in return. After ten years, he finally had some warmth to himself.

In the beginning, he’d wanted to protect him because he reminded him of his brother. After their time together and conversations tonight, that was no longer the case. Now he felt something more. He genuinely liked Matthew and felt a connection to him; even if it was just because of circumstance.

_I don’t want him to leave. I don’t want to be alone again._

What was he going to do come spring? It was too dangerous for Matthew to stay with him.  He’d dug his own grave and he knew it. He had no right to keep him, no matter how much he wanted to. He couldn’t even give Matthew his full name.

**_If he discovers I’m still alive, he’ll execute us both._ **

Gil continued to stroke Matthew’s hair, but turned his now sad smile toward the ceiling. It wouldn’t be a quick and merciful death either. No matter how much he wished otherwise, he couldn’t drag Matthew into that kind of danger.

He looked down at his Birdie.

His hand stroked the greasy hairs of a decaying corpse. With each stroke more skin slipped off the rotting skull; dislodging maggots from their buffet of gangrened flesh. Opaque eyes stared up at Gil without eyelids. Matthew’s mouthed gaped open to reveal large spiders feasting on the maggots gathered in the pool of blood deep in his head.

Gil blinked and the image disappeared. A sleeping, healthy Birdie once again lay under his hand.

He shook his head and turned to look at the rest of the room. The instant he did, a cannon fired and within seconds a ball blew through the cabin; spraying wood and stone everywhere. Gil jumped and covered Matthew with his body. His face felt wet. He lifted his hand to wipe his face. It came away red with blood. He felt his head for cuts, but found none. He looked toward the ceiling only to find the wound the cannon had created was now weeping blood above him through the splintered wood. The wind of the blizzard sang through the dwelling like the screams of disemboweled children.

Gil blinked and the image disappeared a second time. He was once again in a whole cabin, the only sound Matthew’s deep breathing.

**_Scheisse_**. _I’ve been awake too long._

They’d been in the cabin for three days now. Four straight days without sleep. Gil never slept around Matthew. He didn’t sleep near _anyone_. He did things in his sleep. He _killed_ things in his sleep. He never dreamed, he only ever relived old nightmares. The setting always his own personal hell.

Sleeping near Matthew would mean running the risk of killing him. But it seems his body wouldn’t let him get away with it much longer. He needed to sleep and he needed to do it soon; while he still had _some_ control of himself.

_I don’t want him to see me like that._

No choice now. There was only one option. He had to prevent himself from attacking Matthew while he slept. That didn’t leave him with many options. He’d have to use _those._ He’d promised himself he would never let them touch his skin again. He looked down at the peacefully oblivious Matthew.

_For him. For him I’ll allow it._

He moved away from Matthew and sat against the corner of the far wall. Resting his head back against the wall, he settled in for the images to descend on his waking consciousness. He’d wait until Matthew woke up before taking his own reprieve. Matthew stood a better chance of surviving his slumber if he was awake.

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

“Gil. What are you doing?”

Matthew awoke moments ago to find his companion digging for something in the corner between the mantle and the door. _What the hell?_

Gil didn’t answer him. He kept digging his hole deeper and deeper into the dirt floor. After a few minutes he pulled something out in long strands. First one chain, then another. Both dirt filthy; covered in char marks and blade scratches.  Attached to each end was a broken manacle. Rust marks caused by blood and old bits of flesh were still stuck to the inside edges of the shackles.

“Gil……what are those?”

Gil dragged the heavy metal over to the stone fireplace. He didn’t look at Matthew. “Protection.”

 He took a precious scrap of curved metal and using the axe-head, pounded it into the stone mantle; the chains trapped between the metal’s curve and the wall. He turned to Matthew.

Matthew scooted back on the cot. “I thought we were past this! I’m not letting you chain me up like some animal, Gil!”

Gil kneeled down in front of the mantle and reached behind to pull his shirt over his shoulders. “Relax, Birdie. You are not the animal being chained.”

Matthew narrowed his eyes at the man. “What are you talking about? And why are you taking your shirt off? It’s cold Gil.”

A nasty grin pulled up one side of Gil’s mouth in a half smile. “I’ll level with you Birdie. Have you ever seen me sleep?”

Matthew’s eyes widened in shock. _No, I haven’t. Not once in all the weeks I’ve been here._

Gil grunted at Matthew’s expression. “I don’t sleep near something I want to keep safe. When I’m asleep…….I truly am a Beast.” He looked across the room into Matthew’s stunned eyes. “When I sleep, I attack anything that touches me or draws within arms’ reach. Even my clothing.”

He crooked his fingers for Matthew to come forward and lay down with his back on the frozen dirt floor. Matthew crawled forward as he wrapped hand knotted the chains around his wrists. “Make sure they are so tight they cut off circulation, Birdie.”

Matthew didn’t like it, but he did what he was told. He had to adjust the tightness twice before Gil gave his approval. Next he adjusted the length of the chains so Gils’ arms were lifted straight up toward the ceiling with no slack. “I don’t like this.”

 Gil rested his head in the dirt and turned to Matthew. “I would rather you were unhappy and alive, then feed a dead man’s conscience.”

He shifted his eyes and nodded his head to the bed. “Go over to the cot, Birdie. Stay in the farthest corner away from me and no matter what happens or what you see, don’t move from that spot. Understand?”

“I don’t understand any of this Gil.”

“Do you understand my instructions and warnings?”

“……Yes.”

“Good. Then go to your corner. And don’t fall asleep while I’m out.”

Gil let out a breath as he closed his eyes. Matthew frowned down at him, but crawled to his corner on the cot. He sat down next to Gilbird, brought his knees to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them. With sadness and apprehension in his eyes he watched the prone figure in front of the fire place.

“Sweet dreams, Gil.”

Gil snorted. His lips turned up into a rueful and regretful smile. “Goodnight Matthew.”

**_An hour and a half later…….._ **

Matthew occupied his time by petting Kuma and watching Gil slumber. It was obvious sleep didn’t come easy for the man. Matthew listened patiently for his breathing to slow and turn deep. He’d waited for an hour. Resting his chin on Kuma’s fur, he’d let out a sigh of relief. He really did need some rest. He always looked a little wild, but without sleep he looked downright peaked.

**“Hhhiiiiiiiiisssssss.”**

_……..What the hell was that?_

 Matthew lifted his head to look across the room. Gil’s hands were open in the chains; his nails bared and fingers pulled back, ready to strike. His legs were spread, knees bent, and feet planted firmly on the floor. His lips white from being pulled back so far. His teeth clenched as he hissed at an unknown assailant.

_The world was on fire. His ever-present chains and shackles attached to a random, crumbling wall for the night. They’d chained him standing up tonight, so at least he wasn’t lying in the squalor that was the ground. Cannons fired in the distance and flaming arrows descended at random intervals. The agonized screams of men and boys nearly drowned out the cry of metal scraping metal. Soldiers and other fodder slaves fumbled as they ran across the front lines; few making it across to actually engage the enemy. ……He was so hungry……_

_A fodder slave handler walked up to him. The tyrant stayed at arms’ length and raised a long, thin blade under his chin and dug it into his throat._

_“I can’t believe you’re still alive. What’s it gonna take to make you fucking die already?”_

_His lips pulled back in a feral grin. He didn’t answer, just blew him a kiss. The handler used the butt of the blade to rap him hard across the jaw. Spitting on him, he used the blade to shave thin slices of skin from his naked body._

_“If the enemy won’t kill you, maybe your own kind will.”_

_He took the pieces of skin and walked over to the other fodder slaves chained to nearby structures. He went to each one and dangled the strips of skin in front of the starving creatures; working them each into a frenzy in turn. The owner of the skin strips looked on silently from his place against the wall. The handler fed the strips to the prisoners before he moved onto the next. When he was done he turned to look at his handy work with an evil and satisfied sneer._

_“Listen up you fucking dogs! You’re starving right? So hungry, you’ll even eat each other!” The handler looked across to him and back to the fodder slaves before him. “Here’s the deal. I’m gonna give you guys a feast! You see that bastard over there!”_

_He pointed to the white haired fodder slave. “He’s outlived his stay! It makes all us handlers look bad if you guys last too long. I’m gonna unchain all of ya and when I do,….. **eat him**.”_

 

 

Matthew scooted even farther back into his corner. _How is he even capable of making those sounds?_

This wasn’t just a nightmare. A nightmare couldn’t turn Gil into the broken animal chained to the mantle. As the minutes went by, the sounds grew worse. His back arched and his arms flailed; the chains rang out a beaten song. The sounds turned from hisses to growls and snaps; his teeth clamping with jaw-bruising force.

Matthew shivered and squeezed Kuma tighter to his chest. _That’s not Gil……_

Kuma mewled and struggled out of Matthews’ hold. The bear padded out of Matthew’s reach and starting toward the fireplace.

“Kuma! Get back here!”

The bear didn’t listen and Matthew crawled after him to retrieve his pet. “Kuma!”

 

_The man glared predatory red eyes at the handler. He reached behind himself and clutched onto a stone from the crumbling wall with each hand. Using the rocks, he twisted his wrists within the shackles to bang the stones against the metal binding them._

_The handler walked to each of the other fodder slaves and released them from their own bindings. As each one dropped down, they rushed him; one right after the other. As the first one ran up to him, teeth extended to take a piece out of his side, the red-eyed prisoner smashed through the shackles._

_He brought his arms down and extended his sharpened nails as he swiped across his opponents’ throat.  Blood erupted from the dying animal and showered the second slave advancing on him. In similar fashion, he took out the first few as they came one after the other._

_He turned and braced for the next one when two tackled him from behind, knocking him to the ground. He spat, kicked, scratched, and bit at the things attacking him. They were no longer human. None of them were. They turned him onto his back to get at his exposed belly. One of them dug his teeth into his right nipple and bit through the flesh; ripping off his prize and swallowing._

_Their prey roared in outrage. Rearing up, he knocked most of them off him and grabbed a flaming arrow from the ground. He stabbed it into the slave’s eye before he finished gulping down the nipple. Once he finished eliminating the others, he turned his eyes to the handler._

Matthew snatched the cub up, just as Kuma made it to Gil’s side. He knelt on his knees and twisted to quickly toss the bear onto the cot. He turned his body around just in time to see Gil sit up and close his hands around his delicate throat; cutting off Matthew’s air supply.

Dragging him across his lap by his neck, Gil brought his face level with Matthew’s and growled down at him. Unseeing red eyes glared down at Matthew. He wasn’t going to stop this time. _He’s not here_.

Matthew brought his hands up to scratch the hands blotting out his survival to no avail. His vision started to grow fuzzy. His temples were about to burst from his skull with the built up pressure. Unable to swallow, spittle gathered and slipped down his open lips. No air could pass. No sound could be made. His struggles only caused the fingers around him to tighten.

_Gil….stop._

The sounds around him grew quiet. As his vision started to blink out, he watched as Gil mouthed silent words and drew his head back to strike.

 

_The man was watching from a perch on the wall. He stood up as the fight shifted and fled from what he’d unleashed on himself. Red eyes set upon him and their host gave chase. No one stopped their own battle to help the handler. They were too scared of what was running him down. The white-haired demon caught the handler and pinned his arms painfully under his naked and scared body; his knees crunching elbows beneath them. Hands with sharp nails layered themselves over a sweaty and dirty throat. Air was cut off and his lips turned a tasty shade of blue._

_Terrified and bloodshot brown eyes stared up into red ones in absolute terror. He knew he was about to be devoured. Pink saliva sprayed the man’s face as the one above him snapped his teeth and growled down at him._

_“Oh god. P-p-please. Have mercy.”_

_The monster sneered down into the handlers’ terrified face. **“Mercy died with my freedom.”** _

_He opened his jaws and reared back his head in preparation to feast on his face-!_

**“SSSSSCCCCRRRREEEEE!”**

Gilbird let out the most horrific screech. The chained victim paused enough to release his hold.

Matthew fell to the side and hacked into to the dirt with the sudden rush of air. His hands rubbed the bruised pattern darkening his throat. A ringing beat through his skull and chest. No matter how hard he inhaled, his body refused to take in air fast enough. When he regained enough of his wits, he looked around for his Beast.

Gil was crouched in front of the mantle, still caught up in his memory; back turned to Matthew. Both hands gripped his skull, causing hair to fall along the floor. Breath sawed in and out of his chest at a ragged tempo. His entire body trembled with aftershocks; distorting the light of the fire over him. Like demons of the past, the shadows danced and licked at his broken and mangled form. The brand glared out at all that touched it. Always a reminder. Always burning him.

Matthew watched as Gil struggled through hell across the room; agonized at his inability to help him.

“Gil. What the fuck happened to you?”

****

** German Translations: **

  1. Aschenputtel = Cinderella
  2. Ja = Yes
  3. Mein = My
  4. Scheisse = Shit
  5. Nein = No



** Japanese Translations: **

  1. Kumajiro = literally “bear-son”



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Challenged here! ………..The fluff at the beginning might have made the darker stuff worse. =_= *sighs* And snuggles! So much yes!  
> We got a little more into what made the Beast the Beast! During this chapter, we revealed the Beast has PTSD or “Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder”. This is a common ailment of the brave men and women in military service.   
> PTSD Symptoms:  
> 1\. Behavioral: agitation, irritability, hostility, hypervigilance, self-destructive behavior, or social isolation.  
> 2\. Psychological: flashback, fear, severe anxiety, or mistrust.  
> 3\. Mood: loss of interest or pleasure in activities, guilt, or loneliness.  
> 4\. Sleep: insomnia or nightmares.  
> Anything seem familiar? The Beast experienced what are call Micro-naps (part 2). Basically if you go long enough without sleep your body will start to shut down and force you to take “short naps” while still awake. He also experienced a flashback and nightmare (part 3). Very common in those suffering from PTSD.  
> We in no way intended to insult or misrepresent the people suffering from PTSD. Research was done (again) to try and prevent this and be as accurate as possible. If we somehow did by accident, we are sorry. We encourage those who are not familiar with PTSD to research it themselves to learn more.   
> The book Gil read to Matthew is “Cinderella”. We used the Grimm Brothers version for the quote.   
> Again sorry for the late update! If you like what you read and don’t devise to cut off our lady balls for being sadistic bitches, comment and review! We love hearing from you guys! (^^)


	12. Chapter #10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This is Challenged! So guess who slipped on the ice and ended up severely spraining their ankle and foot. =_= Relax, I am fine. I just had to stay off my feet and do nothing for a few days. Silver lining, I had time to write! Yay! So enjoy another chapter! You are all beautiful!

“Gil! Stop avoiding me and get your pasty white ass back here! I’m hungry!”

Matthew stood in the doorway to the cabin, hands on hips and **very hangry**. When the blizzard broke four days ago, Gil had immediately run into the trees without a single word. Matthew knew he was having a rough time and gave him some space.

Well, he’d had enough time. They needed to talk about what happened and Kuma ate the rest of their blizzard food stash two days ago.

From across the clearing, a random and dead bloodied rabbit came flying from the trees and hit Matthew smack in the face. Oh, he was **not** impressed.

_You know what? Fuck this! If he won’t come out on his own……._

Throwing the rabbit over his shoulder into the cabin, Matthew put one foot in front of the other and made his way steadily toward the direction the rabbit was thrown from. The wolf pack took notice and slowly started toward him.

A voice rang out from the trees. “Get back inside Birdie! You don’t have my permission to come out!”

Matthew snorted. “Do you hear something Gilbird?” He yelled back into the cabin. “It sounds like Gil, but how would I know? It’s not like I can see him or anything!”

Gilbird let out an affirmative scree from inside the cabin.

Matthew continued to make his way across the clearing. When he got to the middle, he stopped. The pack circled him and slowly started to close in on him. “Too bad for him. I don’t follow orders from disembodied nonsense.”

Gil stepped out of the trees and into the light of the clearing. “Birdie! Get back in the cabin!”

Matthew shrugged like he hadn’t a care in the world. “Oh, I’m sorry Gil. I don’t listen to cowards too scared to face one. Little. **Birdie**.” He cocked his hip to the side and flited his hand dismissively in a huff.

Gil growled and stalked toward Matthew; shoulders hunched and eyes narrowed. “I’ve had just about enough of your verdamnt sass, Birdie!” The wolves moved out of his way as he advanced.

Matthew crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, yah? Well I’ve **had it** with your disappearing act! How dare you take off without an explanation!”

Gil reached Matthew and scooped him up over his shoulder, carrying him into the cabin. He unceremoniously dumped Matthew on the cot and turned toward the door.

“Oh no you don’t!” Matthew lunged forward and wrapped himself around Gil’s leg. “You’re not going anywhere without talking to me Mister!”

Gil attempted to shake Matthew off his leg. It didn’t work. “There is nothing to talk about! Now let go!”

“Don’t give me that shit, Gil. We need to talk about what happened.”

“I don’t want to!” Gil turned his head away from Matthew and clutched his hair in both hands; the heel of each hand pressing into his eyes. “I’m so ashamed Matthew, can’t you see that!?!”

Matthew gazed up at his companion. His eyes drooped in sadness. _How could I ever think this broken man was a Beast?_

Matthew rubbed the leg under his hands; nuzzling the side of Gil’s knee he pleaded with him. “Gil, _please_. I…I need to understand. You are obviously hurting. Let me help you.”

Gil let out a shaky breath. “There’s nothing you can do Birdie. I am what I am. No changing what I have become. You can’t rewrite my past for me.”

“Gil, we won’t know until we try. And even if there is nothing we can do, I’m staying here until spring. Help me understand. Make it easier for both of us.”

Gil didn’t say anything. Matthew could feel the muscles in his leg trembling. He continued to rub and nuzzle Gil’s leg for long minutes; letting him think it over, giving Gil what little comfort Matthew could. “Please, Gil.”

He let out another long and shaky breath. Hauling Matthew with him, Gil sat down on the cot.  Matthew untwined himself from around Gil’s leg and crawled over to him. He moved to sit in his usual spot in Gil’s lap; facing him. Gil stopped him. “If we are doing this, I can’t look at you. I’ll lose my nerve.”

Matthew nodded in understanding and crawled around his back. He switched their usual positions and enclosed the outside of Gil’s thighs with his own outstretched limbs. Matthew hugged Gil from behind and reached up to remove Gil’s hands still clutched in his hair. He lowered them to Gil’s lap and placed his own hands in Gil’s hair.

Very slowly and tenderly, Matthew massaged the abused scalp under his fingers. Rubbing and kneading gently at his temples. “Take your time, Gil. Relax. I will wait until you are ready.”

Gil rolled his head back on his shoulders and groaned in pleasure. Matthew continued to massaged his head and run his hands through his hair in a show of comfort.

_He needs me. I’ve always relied on him, but now it is my turn to take care of him. This always worked on Alfred, so maybe……_

After working his way through Gil’s hair, he leaned back and started on his shoulders. Gradually, oh so slowly, Gil began to relax; his muscles lost their tension. Matthew snaked his arms around Gil’s stomach to meet in the middle. Lowering his chin onto his shoulder, Matthew snuggled in and waited.

“Why aren’t you afraid of me?”

Matthew lifted his head in surprised. “I have no reason to be afraid of you. If anything you are my savior. I owe you my life many times over.”

Gil shook his head. “How can you say that? I nearly killed you!”

Matthew hugged him tighter. “Gil. You were not yourself. You warned me to stay away and I didn’t listen. It was my own fault. You did everything you could to keep me safe. You are not responsible.”

“It’s not safe for you to be around me.”

“I disagree. I am not afraid of you and I still think being with you is the safest place for me.”

Gil raised his left hand to briefly pinch his nose. “You’re wrong, Birdie. There is so much you don’t know. So much about me I can’t tell you.”

Matthew started rubbing Gil’s stomach in languid circles. Coaxing him. Comforting him. “I know. You don’t have to tell me everything.”

Gil was silent again. Matthew continued to hug him tight. He knew this was very hard for Gil; he would be patient.

Eventually, Gil put his hands over Matthew’s and spoke. “I was….in service. In the army I mean. While I was there, I did things. I saw things. Things no human being should have to experience. I won’t go into detail, but it changed me.” He gripped Matthew’s hand in his own. “It took away my humanity. ……. **No**. Those atrocities ripped it away without reason.”

Matthew lifted his hands out from under Gil’s grip and covered his hands with his own. He rubbed his thumbs over Gil’s in a soothing motion; encouraging him to continue.

“When I got out, I wasn’t fit for society. If I am a Beast now, I was truly a Monster then. I came here to get away from everything; everyone. I hid myself away in this wood to protect those unlucky enough to wonder into my path. I’m here to hide from my past.”

Gil looked over his shoulder and met Matthew’s upturned eyes. “I’ve been out here for five years Birdie. Five years and this is as far as I’ve gotten.” He turned his head back around to face forward. “What could you possibly do in comparison?”

Matthew paused for a moment. He wasn’t an Apothic Artisan, nor did he have experience with this sort of thing. What **could** he do? Matthew reached up and turned Gil’s chin to face him once more. Leaning up, he bumped his forehead against Gil’s, forcing him to look directly at him. Maybe he didn’t need to **do** anything.

“Gil, I won’t lie to you. I don’t have some magic potion to miraculously heal you. I don’t have the right words to make all your scars disappear. In essence, all I have is myself. Just know I am here and I won’t persecute you because of your past. It’s not much, but please take it, Gil. Take what comfort I can give you.”

Gil let out a long breath. Turning at the waist, he picked Matthew up by his arms and brought him around to sit in his lap; facing each other with Matthew’s legs wrapped around Gil’s middle. “Thank you, Birdie. But that still doesn’t take care of the problem. I can turn feral at any time. **You** might think the safest place is with me, but I don’t agree.”

Matthew rolled his eyes. “You’re making a big deal out of nothing, Gil.”

Gil narrowed his eyes. “You think nearly suffocating to death is no big deal?” He closed his eyes and pinched his nose again. “This explains so much.”

Matthew swatted his shoulder. “I’m serious, Gil. I’ve been here for how long now, and your _feral_ state only became a problem now? Why? What causes you to revert into it?”

“It’s always been a constant, Birdie. You just didn’t see it, since I haven’t slept in front of you until now. The only reason I did was because I had no choice.”

“Exactly! Just don’t sleep around me again! And if you have to, I know from experience not to come near you!”

Gil sighed. His hand snaked into Matthew’s hair and stroked his strands. “Haaaah…..I still don’t like it. Your safety isn’t worth it.”

“Get over it.” Matthew got up and started toward the door.

Gil sprang up; turning Matthew to face him, he pinned him to the door. “And where do you think you’re going?”

Matthew directed a pouting glare at Gil and crossed his arms over his chest. “Outside.”

“I still haven’t given my permission, Birdie.”

Matthew’s jaw dropped. “Are we seriously **still** on this?!?! I can’t believe you!” Matthew ground his teeth in exasperation. “Fine! May I please go outside?”

“No.”

**“Why the fuck not?!?!”**

Gil stepped closer, resting one elbow against the door and bringing Matthew’s chin up with his left hand. “Because the threat outside is still there. The one I’ve been protecting you from, from the beginning.”

Matthew scrunched his nose in annoyance. “No she’s not, Gil. She’s locked in your secret tunnel.”

“First of all, while she **is** the main threat within the pack, she is **not** the only wolf likely to go for your throat. Second, her heat broke a few days ago and I can’t keep her locked in there forever.”

“Oh, sure. But you can keep me trapped in the cabin for as long as the whim suits you.”

Gil growled at the statement. “I don’t **like** keeping you in here, Birdie. I have no choice.”

“See you say that, but what have you done to solve the problem? **Hmm?** Nothing! You say you don’t like me in here, but you haven’t even thought of trying to find another solution. Have you?”

Gil growled again and brought his face even closer to Matthew’s. “I have thought of it, Matthew. The facts of the matter are that if you wanted to walk outside freely, you would have to challenge Geno and win. You would have to fight her just like I did with the Black Alpha, beat her, and become my Alpha Female. That is the one and only way it would be **reasonably** safe for you to go outside.”

Matthew’s eyes widened at Gil’s words. “And even if you did by some miracle win against the she-wolf. And that’s a **very** big if. You’d have to maintain that status. You’d have to display your dominance over the entire pack. You back down from a challenge or display even once, and the entire pack will attack. You’ll die. Do you really think you could hold that bluff?”

Matthew looked down at the floor. Could he? He’d always been the passive one in the village; Alfred outshining him with little effort. His eyes wondered from the floor, around the suffocating interior of the cabin. His mind made up, he opened his mouth to speak. “I-!”

**“AAAHHHHWWWWOOOOO!”**

Gil raised his head to listen and stepped back from Matthew. A grin graced his face. “They’ve found an injured stag. We’ll eat well tonight, Birdie.”

He pulled Matthew away from the door and forced him down onto the cot. Gil raised a finger and pointed it at Matthew’s face to emphasize his point. “Do not. **Do not** move from this spot. I mean it, Birdie. I’m going to go lead the hunt, now.”

Matthew started to voice his complaints when Gil lifted his hand to halt the onslaught. “We will continue this conversation over roasted stag meat tonight. Alright?”

Matthew huffed out a breath and looked away from Gil. After a minute he nodded, still not looking at him.

Gil grunted and walked to the door. Before he closed it behind him, he turned back to Matthew. “I mean it, Birdie. Don’t do **anything** until I get back.”

Matthew turned his back to him. “I get it! Just go already!”

The corners of Gil’s eyes curved down; a pang of hurt stinging his chest. Not saying another word, he closed the door behind him. A howl rang out as he gathered the pack and took off in the direction of the scouts. Only the older wolves stayed behind to hold down the camp.

 

***

 

Matthew drew Kuma to his chest and hugged the cub tight; frustrated tears pricking his eyes. It wasn’t fair! No matter how much trust they built, no matter what he did; he was still essentially a prisoner.

_Why? Why won’t he do something? Couldn’t he just kill the wolves? It’s not fair!_

Kuma whined and Matthew let him go. Curling up in a ball, he flopped to the side and rolled himself up in the bear hide. _I’m so tired of being seen as less. So tired of being **fragile**._

Burrowing even deeper into the cot, Matthew had himself a good cry. Slowly, his pent up feelings leaked out and he lay in a drained heap. To his surprise, Gilbird hobbled over and started shifting through his hair.

Just like he did for Gil.

Matthew raised his head from the cot and wiped his nose. “Gilbird?”

*scree*

“What are you doing?”

The winged terror let out an annoyed scree that said, “Are you serious?” and continued to run his beak through Matthew’s tresses.

“Huh. I guess all these weeks spent trapped together weren’t for nothing.”

*scree*

Matthew gingerly lifted his hand and reached out toward the eagle. When Gilbird only stared at him, Matthew slowly started stroking the back of his head. Gilbird leaned his head into Matthew’s hand and ruffled his feathers in appreciation.

*scree*

“You like that?”

*scree*

“Good to know.”

After a few more strokes, Matthew brought his hand back and sat up on the cot. Pulling his knees up to his chest, he focused his mind’s thoughts. Now that he’d let his emotions out a little, he was much calmer.

How was he going to clear this obstacle? As much as he wanted to rely on Gil to solve his problems, he had to do something himself. He no longer stood in his brother’s shadow and needed to do things on his own. He couldn’t rely on Gil either.

_He already has too much to deal with._

No. For the first time in his life, someone other than his brother truly _needed_ him. He would not let Gil down. Nor would he add to his problems. His feelings for the scarred man wouldn’t allow it.

Try as he might, he couldn’t come up with any plausible solutions. There were only two directions he could take. He could either kill all the wolves himself or he could challenge Geno. Out of the two options, the second one was at least _possible_.

Matthew raised his head and once again looked around the closed confines of the cabin. _I refuse to continue being a victim._

In the distance, Matthew heard the multiple howls of the wolf pack; signaling a successful hunt. The elderly wolves answered from the clearing outside the door.

_If I’m going to do this, it has to be now._

Fear gripping his heart, Matthew forced himself to stand. He gathered up a displeased Gilbird and Kuma and forced them into the fireplace. Using the low-table, he closed them in with the long banked and cold embers.

Matthew stepped over to the cot and throwing both it and the trap door aside, dashed out to the middle of the clearing. The elderly wolves took notice and moved to circle him. Matthew ignored them and turned to face the cabin.

From within, a growling white Geno immerged. Eyes filled with hate and hackles raised, she snarled as she slowly stalked Matthew.

Matthew looked her dead in her murderous gaze and arching his back, let out something as close to a challenge howl as he could manage.

Geno balked in surprise; the other wolves just as confused as she. Drawing in another breath, Matthew tried again. This time it got across. Geno narrowed her eyes and answered the challenge with a howl of her own. The pack members present howled in unison. In the distance, the rest of the wolves answered as well.

As Matthew and Geno began circling each other, Matthew reminded himself why he was doing this. _Who_ he was doing this for.

Strangely enough he wasn’t terrified of his situation, he was simply numb.

“Alright, you bitch. Come and get me.”

 

***

 

Gil shook his head in exasperation. He needed to focus on the hunt, but his mind wouldn’t leave the cabin. The pack surrounded him as they ran toward their prey. Excitement radiated off the wolves, but it made no difference. The look in Matthew’s eyes wouldn’t let him be.

Keeping him inside wasn’t an option anymore. As much as Gil wanted him to stay in there, as much as he _needed_ him to, Gil knew he couldn’t trap him any longer. He knew he _wouldn’t_ trap him any longer. His feelings wouldn’t let him hurt his Birdie.

A yip was heard up ahead and Gil somehow managed to drag his thoughts to the hunt. As they got closer, their prey came into view. An antler-less male stag had been surrounded by the scouting pack members. The animal stood its ground while hobbling on an injured foreleg.

It stood no chance.

Moving quickly, Gil dashed up to the stag and looped his arms around its neck. Using his momentum from the run, he threw himself and twisted his body; quickly and efficiently snapping the animal’s neck. He let out the victory howl before the creature hit the pine needle strewn ground. The hunting party took up the howl with great enthusiasm.

Gil bent down to take hold of the stags’ closest back leg, but drew up short at the most pitiful excuse for a howl he had ever heard. _Is one of the wolves at camp dying?_

The other wolves around him looked as disturbed at he felt.

A second passed in earie silence before a discorded call to challenge rang out. Another howl answered the challenger. Gil recognized the answering howl as Geno’s. The pack around him howled their acknowledgement of the challenge before taking off in the direction of the cabin; the dead stag forgotten.

Gil stood in stupefied silence; his body frozen with dread. Only one person would be stupid enough to challenge the Alpha she-wolf.

**_“Scheisse!!!”_ **

Very few situations in the past had forced Gil to run as hard and as fast as he did to reach the cabin. Running past the pack, he broke into the clearing first; scared beyond belief of what he expected to find.

Eyes frantic, he searched the clearing for the precious remains of his Birdie. His eyes focused on the white snow trying to spot the red spatter of spilled blood.

But instead of finding blood, he found a still breathing Matthew.

**Pinning Geno to the ground.**

Gil stopped short at the sight of the brawling pair tussling on the snowy ground. He had no clue how, but Matthew had somehow managed to work his legs around Geno’s throat; keeping her snapping and growling jaws at bay. His arms were wrapped around the rest of her body, but Geno’s legs continued to struggle; doing damage to the important limbs. The she-wolf made the pissed off sounds of a scorned female, eyes glaring Matthew down; the intent to maim prominent in her gaze.

Matthew was alive, but he was not unscathed. Multiple claw marks dotted his arms, torso, and face. Gil was sure there would be more under his pants. A nasty gash spurted the only blood visible from his forehead; the streams of red flew freely down his face and into his eyes. White hairs dislodged from Geno’s pelt further hindered his vision. A single bite was imprinted into Matthew’s palm.

_This won’t work, he needs to bite her neck. Show his dominance._

**“Birdie! Bite her neck! Bite it!”**

Matthew looked up, distracted by Gil’s order. The distraction loosened his grip in both his legs and arms enough to allow Geno to wriggle free. The she-wolf sprang up and circled with surprising speed before baring down on Matthew; going in for the kill.

Gil’s heart froze in his chest for the split second it took for Matthew to bring his left arm up. He took a bruising hold on her ear and scruff as her jaws snapped into place over his forearm. He growled up at her and reached out to his side; searching for anything he could use as a weapon. His legs kicked up to defend his exposed stomach from her digging claws.

Gil ran in to intervene as Matthew drew up his arm to reveal a massive curved timber limb. Using the force swinging the limb generated, Matthew bucked his body and hurtled the limb at the she-wolf. The limb smacked into the side of her muzzle with a booming crack.

Geno yelped in pain and reeled in enough of a daze for Matthew to flip her over and hit her repeatedly with blows to the head.

**“Bite her! Do it now!”**

Matthew glanced at Gil through the adrenaline; his eyes widened in realization. Dropping the wooden limb, he let out a terrible excuse for a snarl and bent down to lock his jaws over Geno’s exposed throat.

Gil raised his head and howled his acceptance of the victor and his new female.

The rest of the pack took up the victory howl as Geno knocked Matthew off…..But it was too late. A victor had already been decided.

Matthew, caught up in his win, growled at his defeated opponent. The other wolves came in behind Matthew and backed up their new Alpha Female. Recognizing her defeat, Geno lowered her head in submission, and retreated to the tree-line.

Matthew turned to Gil with the biggest smile on his face. Gil shook his head and let out a relieved breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

He strode up to Matthew and took him in his arms. _I didn’t think I’d make it in time._ “You are in **so** much trouble.”

Gil lowered his head to Matthew’s shoulder and started rubbing himself all over the smaller man; nuzzling his neck and marking him with his scent. The pack surrounded them once more and jumped around with happy and playful yips.

“Gil! What are you doing? Hey! Ahahaha! That tickles!”

Gil didn’t stop. If anything, Matthew’s response egged him on. “I’m marking you. With this, the pack will know I accept you as my female. My partner and their leader.”

Matthew stiffened at his statement. “Am I you partner?”

Gil drew his head back and looked down into Matthew’s face. The eyes below his shone bright with hope.

Gil’s throat constricted as he answered; emotion making his voice hoarse.

“Ja, Birdie. Du bist mein.”

Matthew’s eyes showed a kind of wonder as he grinned up at Gil, his nose scrunching up with joy. He placed his palms on either side of Gil’s face and spoke no louder than a whisper.

“Then claim me properly.”

Matthew closed his eyes, rose up on tiptoe,......and kissed him.

****

** German Translations: **

  1. Verdamnt = Damn
  2. Schiesse = Shit
  3. Ja = Yes
  4. Du bist mein = You are mine



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Challenged here. Whoop! Another chapter down! Things are getting spicy, no? We are officially half way through this story guys! So Happy! So Bittersweet! We have a few announcements so please read below!  
> • Thank you to everyone who left comments on the last chapter! We got an exceptionally good response for Chapter #9. Yay cannibalism I guess? Below are a few comments we wanted to address.  
> 1\. On Fanfiction:  
> \- Shadowcatxx: As always thank you so much for your kind words, encouragement, and critiques. We are both huge fans of your stuff, so your words mean a lot to us. Thank you.  
> \- Canadian Anon: Thank you so much for sticking with us, we appreciate it! Those first few chapters were a little iffy. It means a lot that you stayed with us. P.S. We accept your Canadian hugs (always the best), and raise you a mental cup of piping hot Timmies and Tidbits! (^^)  
> \- Goldengirl555: Hello! So glad you liked the chapter! To answer your question, yes we will see other characters in Chapter 13. (If I don’t change my layout. Again.) Gil and Matthew just need to take care of some “business” first. *wink* *wink*  
> \- EllaAwkward: Thank you so much for the shout-out on your latest update for Gay Okay Café! As always the chapter was amazing and the recommendation was lovely. You go girl!
> 
> 2\. On AO3:  
> \- Jordan_Banana_Phant: Bless you, you beautiful soul! You still comment on every. Single. Chapter. We appreciate it so much. Just so you know, it’s gotten to the point where we have a code to inform the other when you have commented. We don’t know if you are male, female or other/Hideyoshi (honestly it doesn’t matter, you are awesome whatever you are!), so we’ve decided your sex is simply “banana”. The code is “The Banana has struck again!”. This. This is how goofy we are. (^^)  
> \- Java: Thank you for the holiday wishes and right back at you!  
> \- Allen: Glad you like the update! We will try to keep it up!  
> \- Lulu: Thank you for the New Years’ goodwill wishes; same to you! I won’t lie, when I read that we were your favorite PruCan authors, I teared up a little. Out of all the PruCan stories out there this is your favorite? Wow. Just. Thank you. You have no idea how happy that made us.  
> *A lot of people who commented were not mentioned, but don’t think we didn’t appreciate your feedback. Seriously guys, they mean so much to us. When we are deep in the weeds or in a slump it’s your comments and encouragements that get us through. We read and appreciate every single comment, so thank you. For me specifically (Challenged), I want to thank all those who commented on the writing. I am the main writer and have never written anything before. I try really hard to make the chapters good and you all saying you love the descriptions, style and whatnot makes it all worthwhile. It means a lot. Thank you.  
> • We have decided to keep the longer chapters and write the rest of the series this way. However, this will mean they will take longer to write and update. I will try to update as soon as possible, but I refuse to sacrifice quality for speed. Plus we are currently writing 2 other stories on top of this series, so……you know. Sorry.  
> • We have finally come to a consensus on what our titles and pairings will be for the rest of the series. They are posted on our profile page if anyone is curious. Try to guess which fairytales they are based off of from the titles! *stoops fingers and grins evilly*  
> • We have been getting a lot of questions about this series, our other stories, and about us personally. Therefore, we were thinking about posting a Q&A on our profile page. If we get enough questions we might do that. Either PM or send us stuff in the comments/review section. Fair Warning: if we feel a question is too personal for internet safety it will not be answered, but we will answer what we can.  
> • We have decided to branch out, so we now have Deviant Art, Twitter, and Tumblr accounts. We still have no idea how to use them though, so expect technical difficulties.  
> *Once again thank you for everything! We will see you all next update. Until then, stay beautiful! (^^)


	13. Chapter #11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone! Challenged here, we’re back! Happy Valentine’s Day Everyone! Thank you to all the people who sent me get well wishes. My foot and ankle are completely healed and I am roaring around like usual. See bottom of chapter for more notes and translations. Enjoy! (^^)

**_He’s kissing me._ **

Gil stood stock still in absolute panic. His arms still clasped around Matthew’s shoulder blades. His Birdie’s sweet and tender lips pressed fully against his own hard mouth. Matthew’s eyes were softly closed, his face flushed from the fight. Even with the scratches and blood speckling his complexion, Matthew’s skin gave off a kind of sheen that only drew Gil in to his quiet beauty.

_Oh this is not good. This is not good at all._

Matthew’s action was subtle and gentle, but he might as well have struck Gil with lightning. The effect to his body would be the same. Every time they touched, every soft comfort brought something out in Gil. It heated something in his blood and it frightened him. The unknown frightened him.

He’d felt it. Through the caresses and skin on skin contact; he’d felt the simmer. If he was being honest, he’d assumed the currents between them were a result of his isolation and Matthew’s desperate circumstances.

Well it didn’t matter what he’d assumed. Their emotions were both too volatile; too raw. The gun powder had been there all along. The accelerant placed over time. Now Matthew had just struck the match.

The only thing preventing that flame from dropping and overtaking them both was Gil’s will freezing him perfectly still.

He knew within his last dredges of reason there would be no going back. If he gave in, the heat hidden inside him would incinerate Matthew’s gentle warmth. They would be utterly consumed and Gil feared losing control.

Of losing his everything.

Below him, Matthew took the decision out of his hands. He moved his digits from the sides of Gil’s face and threaded his fingers through his hair. He gripped it hard, forcing Gil more firmly against his own smaller frame.

He **demanded** Gil reciprocate.

Matthew pressed up into him; pushing his curves to fit Gil’s cracks. From the depths of his throat emerged an entreating mewl into the mere breadth between them.

That desperate sound completely undid Gil. His resistance vanished; and with it, his control. The flame dropped. The powder ignited. And now the heat flared up, engulfing their embrace.

With a low growl, Gil gave in to his need.

His hands moved from Matthew’s shoulder blades. One moved to trap the back of his head; preventing any chance of escape. The other traced down Matthew’s spine before finding purchase in the small of his back.

His lips brushed back against Matthew’s. Gil closed his eyes and tentatively searched the pliant mouth beneath his; unsure of how to proceed. 

Matthew quickly took over the kiss. The young man lightly nipped at Gil’s lips. When Gil opened them in surprise, Matthew advanced. Pressing his tongue between Gil’s teeth, Matthew captured Gil’s tongue with his own. Coiling it around the tender organ, Matthew drew Gil’s tongue into his own mouth.

The duel that ensued was heady. Both muscles fought for territory and struggled for dominance. Exploration and excavation were fueled by labored breaths. Both parties became dizzy with the effort. Neither cared. They gave no pause to the heat.

Until they were interrupted.

The wolves around them took notice of the Alpha’s activities. To them, it appeared his new female had instantly gone into heat.

They weren’t far off.

The pack became excited. They began jumping around the pair and yipped their good wishes. In short, they were in the way.

One of the wolves became too excited. It slammed into the back of Gil’s legs, buckling his knees.

As Gil’s legs bent him toward the ground, the pairs’ mouths separated slightly. Straightening, Gil growled a harsh warning and hoisted Matthew up by his waist. The young blonde caught on immediately, wrapping his legs around Gil’s hips and moving his hands to his shoulders.

The movement forced Gil to hold Matthew up by his ass and press them together from chest to crotch. As Gil quickly trudged across the clearing toward the cabin, each step rubbed their growing erections against each other.

Gil could barely concentrate on the task at hand. The burn only intensified with each touch; each labored gasp for air. His chest itched in the constraints of his shirt. A pressure building in the small of his back, sliding down to oil the muscles in his hips and thighs.

Matthew took the opportunity to lay siege to his neck and collar bone. While Gil navigated the excited pack and his own oppressive desires, Matthew made it his personal mission to slowly lavish him in kisses and sharp little nips. Angling his back **just so** , he ground his own erection down on Gil’s with each step he took. Gil’s fingers twitched around the flexing globes filling his grasp.

“Mmhhmm. Gil…..Oh god Gil. Walk faster.” Matthew accentuated his plea with a lick up the shell of Gil’s ear.

Gil’s nostrils flared and his pupils blew wide at the action. The sound of Matthew’s plaintive wantonness struck a static cord in his pulse.

The pair slammed through the door to close it even harder; blocking the distractions outside. They landed in a pile of moaning gasps onto the cot. Gil lay stretched out with Matthew pinned beneath him, legs still wrapped tightly around his hips. Their mouths connected in a short lived reunion, before Gil grew impatient.

He drew his head back from those addictive lips to explore new places. Mimicking Matthew’s earlier teasing, he slowly and languidly tongued the arches and crevices of his neck and upper chest.

If his lips were addicting, the sounds escaping from them were downright intoxicating. Each breath, each little mewl, groan, and sigh fueled a need for this person.

**For his troublesome little pretty package.**

The intoxicating sound under him intensified. Below him, Matthew was losing his patience. Gil was losing his sanity.

Matthew grew tired of this play. Undulating his body under Gil, he brushed against him in a full-on tease. His hands slipped into Gil’s clothes toward different destinations. One toward the remaining nipple, the other toward his suffering erection.

Stopping just short of their mark, Matthew stroked the surrounding muscle and flesh; eliciting pure torture. Arching his neck forward, he nudged Gil into another drugged kiss.

Breaking away, Matthew forced a breathy purr into the hollow of Gil’s ear. “Gil…….Clothes off. **Now.** ”

A sharp clap resonated through Gil’s mind at Matthew’s words. His instincts, his turbulent emotions, the fire scorching its way through his veins; it all accumulated into that one instant.

He snapped.

Gil drew back and kicked off his trousers and boots. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Matthew sit up and remove his own trousers. Both his chest and feet were already bare. He’d fought Geno without either.

Matthew reached to help Gil with his shirt. He was too slow. Gil had to have Matthew **now.** Gil no longer had reason. All he had left was a single-minded need.

Without thinking, Gil ripped off his shirt and slammed Matthew back onto the cot. **Hard.**

Matthew’s head slammed down onto the cot and collided through it to the floor underneath with a harsh thud.

“Ow! Gil! Not so rough. Take it easy!”

Gil froze on top of Matthew once again. …..But this time it was different.

Gil loomed over Matthew; both completely naked, with Gil pressing Matthew down into the cot with both hands on his chest. Matthew’s eyes witnessed the emotions of pure fear and disgust show through Gil’s own glassy depths.

Gil looked down at the visage of a ravished and aroused Matthew. His blonde hair was strewn across the cot in waves; his skin flushed with exertion and pleasure. His eyes drooped in impatience; his lips swollen from Gil’s onslaught.

Before him was his Birdie, pinned beneath him in a state of utter depravity and dishevelment. Right where he wanted him. Where his body and blood required he be.

**And in an instant, it was gone.**

_Gil’s hands were no longer on Matthew’s chest. They were wrapped around his delicate throat._

_The gasps and moans that so intoxicated him moments ago, now horrified him. Skin once flushed with pleasant exertion, now blotched read with desperate swelling. Eyes bright with affection and hope, now empty from death._

 

Just like that, Gil came crashing down to reality.

He didn’t make a sound. Rolling off a stunned Matthew, he walked naked out into the snow covered wood; vanishing into the familiar darkness.

 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

Matthew couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It was impossible for Gil’s exquisite ass to be walking _away_ from him right now. There was no way he would give him the most exhilarating foreplay session of his life……and walk out when it was just getting _good_.

_It’s okay. I’m just hallucinating. Lack of oxygen from kissing him too long. I’m going to close my eyes and when I open them again, Gil will be right back **where he’s supposed to be**._

Matthew closed his eyes tight and waited ten seconds before reopening them.

……No Gil.

_Maybe he’s grabbing something. Yah, he’s grabbing something nice. I’ll try one more time._

……No Gil.

Matthew looked down and screamed at his literally weeping penis.

**“WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!”**

Matthew was too pissed off to finish himself off, so instead he stewed and waited for his erection to go down. It took a while.

Once he could walk normally, Matthew redressed himself in his trousers and boots. Retrieving Gil’s shirt from the floor, he pilfered it for his own use. After releasing the _very_ indignant Gilbird and Kuma from the hearth, he made his way over to the door and barged out into the clearing.

A cursory scan of the area confirmed what Matthew already knew. Gil had disappeared once more.

**_God Damn_ ** _his delectable ivory ass! Where the hell has he gone off to now?_

Matthew ruffled both of his hands through his hair in belligerent frustration. He took a step toward the trees intent on finding the red-eyed source of his cock-blocked predicament. He made it just inside the tree when a noise from the cabin made him pause. He turned back and from the cabin emerged a soot covered, stubby eagle.

As Matthew watched, Gilbird hobbled out of the doorway and started to pick up speed. Flapping his wings and using more force than was probably normal, the pitch colored avian took off and glided just above the treetops. Once overhead, Gilbird screeched down into the foliage. A sharp whistle came from deeper into the Wood and the eagle headed toward the sound.

Matthew followed the eagles’ progress from the forest floor. Trailing behind him, Matthew travelled deeper and deeper into the Dark Wood. Darker and Darker into the forest.

He ducked under a particularly low hanging branch. Once he came up on the other side of the broken limb, Matthew panicked. He could no longer see Gilbird. A scree from overhead alerted him to the eagles’ current position. The black bird of prey had landed in the tree attached to the broken limb. Using the mangled branch as a ladder, Matthew gingerly scaled the limbs of the massive Ash.

He was nearly to the leafy ceiling when Gil and Gilbird came into view.  His alabaster companion was nearly invisible in the darkness. One would think the paleness of his skin would make him shine through the darkness. In reality, it was the opposite. The inkiness of the shadows seemed to keep him in confidence. It welcomed him like a long-time friend.

Only two beams of light shot through the green overhead to streak across his body. The first ran over his face, across his nose and over one corner of his mouth. The other ran along his chest; highlighting his scars so they stood out against his skins natural paleness.

His eyes remained closed until Matthew reached the branch he was lounging on. Gil leaned back against the crook of the branch; where limb met trunk. One leg was drawn up with his forearm resting on it. The other was stretched out for balance along the branches length. His head was sloped back on the bark behind him. Gilbird balanced on the forearm Gil draped over his drawn up leg. The eagle was once again tending to Gil’s silver white hair in an attempt to comfort him. He was still completely naked.

Matthew hauled himself up onto the branch and Gil opened his eyes. His gaze met Matthew’s down the length of his nose. It startled Matthew to see the red shone through the darkness. The color appeared to boil in the shadows. Anyone who saw it would immediately assume these eyes belonged to a monster, a demon. Only Matthew knew better. It wasn’t anger in his gaze. It was shame and confusion.

Matthew’s own anger dissipated at the insight. He inched his way down the length of the limb toward Gil on all fours. “Gil. Are you okay?”

Gil let out a large sigh and shut his eyes again. “You shouldn’t be here Birdie. Leave and go back to the cabin.”

Matthew crawled closer. “You should know by now that’s not going to happen.”

Gil rubbed his right hand over his eyes and forehead. A deep shuddering breath his only response. Matthew stopped his advance at the end of his outstretch leg. With Gil’s eyes shut once more, Matthew took his time to peruse the body before him at his leisure.

 Even in the shadows, the man was an exceptional specimen. If anything the shadows showed off the dip and swells of his muscles to perfection. His muscles where not bulky by any stretch of the word; they were solid and firm. Lean and taunt over sturdy bones. From their brief naked encounter on the cot, Matthew knew the unblemished portions were firm and lithe. Even the scars and burn marks were sexy to Matthew. To him they were not grotesque; they showed depth.

Matthew moved his perusal downward to Gil’s crotch. Silvery white curls topped a member which still stood semi hard; a small bead of pre-cum glistened in the slit at its tip. His penis wasn’t overlarge, but it was _very_ prominent. The skin over the veins stood out with a slightly pinker flush to match the circumcised cap.

Matthew licked his lips in appreciation. His own penis stirred once again in his own trousers. In his mind he pictured Gil’s penis entering him; stretching and filling him into oblivion…..or the other way around.

It would be good between them. Their chemistry was too intense; their sexual tension so thick. What’s more, they connected on an emotional level. When they joined, it wouldn’t be some random fuck; it would actually mean something.

Matthew moved his eyes back up toward Gil’s face. Boiling crimson stared back at Matthew, eyebrows furrowed; watching Matthew feast his eyes on his body. Gil made no move to cover himself and showed no shame. When Matthew met his gaze, Gil turned his head away to stare blankly at nothing. _Anything_ other than the look of hunger in Matthews’ eyes.

_Trying to ignore me, huh?_

 Matthew smirked mischievously and sat down on the branch. Using his index finger, he lightly trailed it along the inside arch of Gil’s outstretched foot. Gil inhaled sharply and tried to pull his foot away from Matthew.

Matthew saw the retreat coming and snatched up the foot with both hands. Massaging it slowly he asked, “Tell me Gil, would you be interested in having tree sex?”

Gil’s eyes popped open in shock. He squirmed under the pressure of the foot message. “W-what?”

Matthew’s eyes twinkled. “You. Me. Having sex in this tree. What do you say?”

Gil narrowed his eyes and moved to pull his foot away. “I’m not having sex with you.”

Matthew held his foot hostage. His own eyes narrowed at Gil. “Excuse me?”

“I said I’m not having sex with you.”

Matthew tightened his grip on Gil’s foot. “I heard you the first time. I’m just waiting for the earth-shattering reason why not.”

Gil looked away and didn’t answer.

Matthew felt his temper flaring again. Using both hands, he stopped his message and tickled Gil’s foot instead. The instant jerk and look of absolute betrayal on Gil’s face was priceless. “I want an explanation, Gil. Not sharing what’s wrong is becoming a bad habit of yours.”

Gil clenched his teeth and tried to remove his foot from Matthew’s grasp. However, from his current position, he risked knocking Gilbird off his arm. With only one foot left, his friend was unlikely to keep his balance. “You’re fighting dirty, Birdie.”

“If you would actually **let** us be dirty, I wouldn’t have to resort to tickle torture.”

“ **I said we’re not having sex!”**

**“Why the hell not?!?!?!”**

Matthew stopped his assault on Gil’s foot. “What happened to me being your partner, Gil? Partners are equals. That means they share everything. Especially the bad stuff.”

Matthew let go of Gil’s foot and crawled over his leg so his face was inches from Gil’s. “That’s another thing you should know better by now.”

Gil let out an exasperated groan and ran his free hand down his face. Over his hand he looked at Matthew, who was giving him a look of impatient expectation; a single eyebrow raised.

Gil knew he couldn’t get out of this. His breath came out in a shuddering sigh before he began. “When I have nightmares, or when I become not myself I don’t know what I am doing. I….do things I’m not aware of. When I’m like that, I’m reliving an old memory or experiencing a nightmare of my own design. It’s not just sight. I hear, taste, _smell_ , everything. It is my reality. For me, it is actually happening.”

He paused before starting again.

“My mind records what my eyes see in real life while I am out of it. I don’t see it while it’s happening, but sometimes the memories of what I do reappear as their own nightmares. They can happen at any time.”

Matthew cocked his head to the side. “Are you telling me you had one of these…..visions while we were having foreplay?”

Gil looked at him strangely. “If you mean while we were touching and kissing, yes.”

Matthew returned his strange look. “That’s mostly what foreplay is Gil.”

Gil averted his eyes downward before continuing. “I….I saw you being strangled. **I** was strangling you, Birdie. While I was touching you. The ferocity with which I wanted, **needed** to devour you scares me. My body acted in a way it hasn’t before. I’ve never experienced these emotions, these desires. Then the image of you suffocating and begging appeared.”

He turned to Matthew. “Even with you dying from my hands below me, I didn’t want to stop. For an instant all that mattered was that I fuck you. I was killing you and it didn’t register. I. Didn’t. Care.”

He looked away once more. “After a moment I came to my horrified senses and ran. I didn’t want to lose control and hurt you again.”

Matthew stared at Gil in utter stupefaction; a sudden realization came to him. “Gil….. _are you a virgin_?!”

Gil stiffened and looked up at Matthew warily. **_Is he blushing?!_**

**“Didn’t you listen to a Verdamnt thing I just said?!?!”**

“Oh, I listened. And I can tell you what your main problem is right now, Gil.”

Gil straightened and looked at Matthew with intent focus; straining with impatience for the answer.

“You are suffering from an extreme case of Blue Balls.”

Gil glowered at Matthew.

“I recommend the _joint_ treatment.”

Gil pulled his stretched leg from between Matthew’s legs and arms. In one fluid motion he gathered Gilbird in one arm and dropped off the side of the branch to freefall to the forest floor.

Matthew watched him go and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Gil running naked through the forest toward the cabin.

Left in the tree alone, Matthew stared off into space. As hard as it was to believe, his response confirmed Gil was a virgin.

A devilish grin spread across Matthews’ face. _Oh, I can definitely work with this._

His grin only grew wider as he watched the bare ass of the retreating figure.

_This is going to be fun._

** Translations: **

  1. Verdamnt = Damnit



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Challenged here! Another one down! Talent and I just realized what day it is and what holiday we are releasing this chapter on. Or rather we realized the lack of festive themes this chapter has. (AKA a lack of smut and much cock-block). Please no flames! We will get plenty in the special cell in hell reserved just for us. XP  
> A minor announcement, I got a new and better job! I’m so happy you guys! Hooray for better pay, hours, and full time benefits! Unfortunately, this means my hours are changing and I’m not sure what that will mean for my update schedule and how much time I will actually have to write. Just letting you guys know ahead of time. I will try and update as much as I can, but I don’t know if it will be as frequent as we have been in the past. Fingers crossed! If you liked the chapter let us know in the comments section! They fuel our motivation and souls! (^^)


	14. Chapter #12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys! Challenged here. I had the weekend off, so guess what I did! Enjoy the Chapter! XD

Matthew breathed in the fresh gust of warm March wind with great reverence. Spring was almost here. You truly couldn’t appreciate freedom until it is taken away from you.

A lot had happened in the weeks since the fight with Geno. First and foremost, Matthew could now run freely outside the cabin. Displaying shows of dominance and putting down all the wolves who tried to test his status had taken some getting used to though.

Second, much to Matthew’s distaste, nothing had progressed with Gil. Make-out sessions happened on a regular basis, but Gil always stopped them before they progressed any further. Matthew wanted to give Gil time to get over his nervousness, but his patience was not lasting.

Third, the wolves had adopted the now **very** large Kuma. After the fight with Geno, Matthew took every chance he could to be outside. When he wasn’t looking, Kuma had snuck out with him. Matthew had expected Kuma to be eaten by the wolves, but they hadn’t. In fact, the entire pack and Geno in particular, had made it their own personal mission to feed Kuma as much as he could stomach; which was a lot.

Upon seeing this, Matthew had asked Gil why the wolves would do that. Gil had replied, “If I had to guess, they think he is our pup. He smells like both of us and he came out of our “den”. As far as they know, he is our offspring and possibly the next Alpha.”

As a result, Kuma was now roughly the size of a small donkey. Which gave Matthew a brilliant idea for Kuma’s training.

“Birdie! Why. No really. _Why_ are you riding the bear?!?!”

Gil stood in front of his pretty little troublesome package with his feet splayed firmly and his hands fisted on both hips. A scowl depicted his annoyance as he looked up at Matthew, who sat between Kuma’s shoulder-blades like the albino bear was his personal throne.

Matthew sat up straighter atop of Kuma’s back with the most beguiling innocent look he could muster. “It’s part of his training.”

Gilbert deadpanned. “Excuse me.”

Matthew averted his gaze and shrugged nonchalantly in a further attempt to look innocent. “Well, we moved past the wrestling, slash play and command stage; so we moved on to the riding stage. If I can ride him, I can go on hunts with you and the rest of the pack.”

Gil cocked his hip, crossed one arm over his midsection and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other hand; his head lowered into his hand.  He let out a slow breath for patience. “You _wrestled_ with the bear. **You wrestled with the Gott verdammt bear!?!?!** ”

He shifted his arms out to his sides, palms open, and lifted his face to the sky as if for guidance before once again meeting Matthew’s questioning eyes. “Birdie. Why would you do that?!?!”

Matthew cocked his head to the side like it was no big deal. “He needed to learn to control his strength.”

“And you thought using _yourself_ as a human ragdoll was a good idea? Did you learn nothing from _being_ attacked by **his mother**?”

Matthew just shrugged unfazed by anything Gil said. “Meh.”

Gil threw his arms up in exasperation before stomping into the cabin and slamming the door behind him. “I give up! Do whatever the hell you want, I’m going to sleep for a while.”

Matthew pouted before going back to Kuma’s training.

They continue training for three more hours before they were interrupted by the most off-putting and cringe inducing sound Matthew had ever heard. Even his attempt at howls, which had not improved _at all_ , were better than this. The sound was a harsh scraping and give of two hard, but somehow organic materials. It reminded Matthew of running metal over slate.

Matthew and Kuma cringed and shuddered, while the wolves whimpered around them. Matthew put both hands over his ears and looked in the direction the sound originated from; the cabin.

“Gil! What the hell are you doing in there?” He shuddered. " **Stop it!** ”

The noise stopped and Gil came out of the cabin. In his hand he held a sandstone. Gil held Matthews’ gaze and very pointedly, brought the sandstone up to his mouth and began filing one of his canines.

“ **Ack**! No no no no no no no no no!” Matthew shook his head from side to side in protest; his face scrunched up in horror. “Stop it, stop it, stop it!”

Gil removed the sandstone from his mouth and gave Matthew an expression that gave zero shits. “My hearing is a lot more acute than yours, Birdie. Suck it up.”

Matthew stuffed his face into Kuma’s fur to buffer the sound. “ **NNNNNNOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!** ”

Kuma, no longer distracted by the sound of tooth filing, took this to mean “play time”. Jumping straight up, he threw Matthew into the air before quickly rolling onto his back and using his paws to catch Matthew; smothering him to his chest and licking his hair and giving contented cuffing sounds.

Gil raised his eyebrows, impressed. “Huh, he really did learn to control his strength.”

Matthew waved his arms about to try and be free of Kuma’s grasp. “Gil! Help me! I’m gonna either suffocate or drown.”

Gil waved his hand dismissively and turned to walk back into the cabin. Over his shoulder he called back, “You wanted to keep the puff-ball terror, you can deal with him yourself.”

“Gil!”

Gil ignored him and closed the door behind him before resuming his dental ministrations. Thirty minutes later he emerged once again to a Matthew with a _very_ interesting hairstyle.

“Come with me, Birdie. There is something I wish to show you.”

***

 

After requesting Matthew follow him, Gil led Matthew by the hand down into the darkness of the escape tunnel through the cabin. He led Matthew past the first turnoff and kept straight. “Where does that tunnel lead?”

Gil looked at the turnoff’s entrance before facing forward again. “That tunnel leads to your village. If you follow it, you will come out about fifty feet from the river to the North side.”

“And where does this one lead?”

“You’ll see when we get there.”

Gil continued to lead Matthew through the dark until they came out into the light through the roots of a great oak. Matthew blinked through the brightness and gasped.

Before them stood the burnt rubble of a stone strong-hold. Torn-down battlements formed a decrepit outer wall, which surrounded the rest of the structures. Matthew could see through a gaping hole in the outer wall, a main structure that could only be the great hall across the inner courtyard. Half of the roof was burnt off and caved in. A single tower jutted toward the sky, its’ stairs visible through the side obliterated by cannon fire. Small stone structures used as housing rooms, storage, and other functions lined the inner part of the wall around the great hall and on the interior of the outer walls encasing the other buildings.

The charred bones of horses and other animals indicated the location of what was once a stable, directly opposite the great hall. Still more bones of wolves were scattered throughout the courtyard. Tooth markings on the bones indicated the carcasses had been scavenged by the Dark Woods’ various inhabitants. Small wooden cottages dotted the landscape outside the outer wall, all in varying stages of rot and decay. Beyond them were overgrown gardens and orchards. The entire main structure was built into the side of a rock face not big enough to be called a cliff, but not small enough to be called a hill either. The great hall rested on the side backed into the rock face. A crude graveyard had been made a few feet into the tree line beside them. Sticks stuck upright in the earth served as the only markers to their final resting place.

“What is this place, Gil?”

“This was my mothers’ home. The center of the Bartian tribe’s civilization.”

Matthew looked up at him in surprise. Gil stood at his side still clutching his hand. “Why would you show me this?”

He looked down at Matthew.

“Because you need to know in case something happens at camp and you need to escape.”

He lied. The real reason he needed to show Matthew was far less logical. Gil simply wanted to share something of himself with his little Birdie. He knew he would never be able to tell the young man his full story; heck, he couldn’t even tell him his full name. Gil would not allow himself to do so and put Matthew’s life in even more danger. However, the need to bring Matthew in and include him with just a small part of who he was was insatiable. At least with this he could hide behind the guise of his safety.

“Go on, Birdie. Explore.”

Matthew needed no further prompting and took off. Gil followed behind him at a slower pace, keeping his ears peeled to the whereabouts of his companion. He stopped and stood in the middle of the courtyard, content to wait out Matthew’s energy.  Matthew ran in, out, and around anything and everything; thoroughly enjoying the excursion. He started by going through all the cottages that were left before moving inward toward the great hall. A long while later, Gil listened as the footsteps ran through the barracks of the outer wall and stopped once they reached the great hall.  Gil walked through the door of the great hall to see a truly mesmerized Matthew staring up to the mural on the walls.

The entire great hall was encased by a massive mural covering all its walls and ceiling. The portraits of white haired and crimson eyed people and their wolves closed in on the two occupants. Portraits of all tribesmen, not just the leading family looked back at them. They _smiled_ back at them. Multiple scenes of people playing……laughing……singing; all their emotions spoke through the agony of the ash covering their memories.

Multiple tables and benches were chard and scattered throughout the hall. On each side wall stood a large stone hearth. One still contained a giant iron caldron. Opposite the door sat a giant wooden chair which once served as their “throne”. Random piles of rubble and debris pepper the floor throughout the entire ruin.

Gil’s attention shifted back to Matthew when he walked over to a particular portrait on the wall. It was a picture of a young women kneeling on the ground with her arms wrapped around a wolf pup. Her hair billowed around her face and her eye twinkled out of a face upturned with a smile. Behind her stood two figures, both male. Both had a garland adorning their heads as they held hands and smiled down at the young woman. The faces of both males were defiled by weapon slashes to the stone, blotting out their characteristics for all eternity.

Matthew ran a finger down the side of smiling girls’ face. “Why does she seem so familiar?”

Gil walked up behind Matthew and placed his hand over his shoulder. “This is my mother.”

Matthew dropped his hand and looked up at Gil in astonishment. “She’s beautiful.”

Matthew dropped his hand from the portrait and looked out over the rest of the hall. His eyes moved between the mural and the ghosts of carnage surrounding them. The light in his eyes turned sad. “What happened here, Gil?”

Gil let out a long breath. “I can’t tell you everything, Birdie.”

Matthew raised his eyebrow. “Like how you come from a noble family?”

Gil frowned down at Matthew.

Matthew raised his eyebrow even higher. “Don’t give me that look, Gil. I might be uneducated, but I’m not a complete moron. You can read. Your dick is circumcised. And if the portrayals of your grandparents is any indication,” he pointed to the two figures behind Gil’s mother, “you are related to the Bartian leading family.”

Matthew ran his hands over Gil’s shoulders. “I don’t expect you to tell me everything. I’ve accepted you either can’t or _won’t_. Just tell me what you can, Gil.”

Gil ran a hand through his hair and let out a breath. He’d gotten more than he’d bargained for bringing Matthew here. “Where do I even start?”

“Wherever you can.”

“Hah.”

Gil ran his own hand over the painted hair of his mother. He didn’t look at Matthew and began. “My father and mother married in a political alliance. Relations between the Gegend nobility and the Baritan tribe were never good. In the years prior to their marriage, that balance had grown even more unstable. The previous King of Gegend was a power, hungry Warlord. Fifty years ago, the Kingdom had been one fourth the size it is today. During his reign the previous king conquered the tribes and their territories of the people in what is now known as the Gegend Kingdom.”

He looked away from the mural to see Matthew’s expression. His Birdie was totally engrossed in the story. “When he set his sights on the Bartian Territory, he ran into a problem. No matter how many troops he sent into the Dark Wood, none would return. After four failed attempts, a single soldier returned. He gave testimate to the **_Demons of the Dark Wood_.** ”

Gil grinned in spite of himself. “Apparently my tribesmen were very fond of the ambushing from the shadows.”

Gil turned his back and leaned against the mural, careful not to lean against his mother and grandparents portraits, and crossed his arms over his chest. “The King’s soldiers lost the will to fight and he had to find another solution. That solution came in the form of marriage. The Bartians knew they couldn’t hold out forever. They were greatly outnumbered and outgunned. When the King sent a compromise through marriage, my mother agreed to it thinking it would save her people. She married my father, who was part of the Gegend nobility and the heirs they produced would in turn be Gegend nobility.”

Gil paused for a moment. Matthew wanted to press him on, but felt whatever Gil was about to tell him was hard for him to impart.

“My parents didn’t love each other. From what I’ve been told, my father all but raped my mother to get her pregnant. He did not treat her well at all. She remained here with her people until the time came to give birth to me. I was born in the capitol.”

Gil met Matthew’s gaze and held it. “Three days after she gave me life……my mother died mysteriously.”

Matthew’s eyes widened.

Gil looked to his side and once again stroked the painted hair of his deceased mother. “The official story is my mother died from complications during my birth. In reality, my father probably had her assassinated.”

Gil closed his eyes and his head back against the painted wall. “My grandparents and the Bartian people believed the same thing. The previous king had since died and the Bartian Tribe led a revolt against the current King Aldrich for the death of their daughter. The king used the revolt as an excuse to wipe out the entire Bartian population.”

Gil opened his eyes and splayed his arms to indicate the crumbling structure around them. “ **This** is all that remains in the wake of the genocide.”

Matthew didn’t say a single thing. What could he say after hearing that? Whatever he had been expecting Gil to tell him, the harsh reality was far different.

Gil pushed away from the wall and walked to the door. Opening it, he looked out into the inky darkness of night. “It seems we’ve lost track of time.”

He closed the door and turned back to the still silent Matthew. “We’ll be staying here tonight. I’ll start a fire. Go to what used to be the storage house next to the tower. I stored some emergency preserves I found on my earlier visits and some old linens and tapestries in there.”

Matthew nodded once and took off to execute his assigned tasks.

 

***

 

Matthew quickly gathered the items and rushed back to the great hall. By the time he got back, Gil had started a fire in one of the hearths and gathered enough wood to last them through the night. Matthew went over to the table closest to the fire and set down his items.

“I can’t believe the selection in the store house. Are we sure it’s safe to eat?”

Gil looked up from where he crouched to feed the fire more wood. “Should be.” He stood up and picked up one of the black colored jars for inspection. “It’s either pickled or preserved, so it should be fine.”

Gil twisted the lid on the jar he was inspecting and pulled the lid off. Sniffing the contents, he shrugged and stuck his fingers in before popping them in his mouth. Cringing he pulled them back out. “Eww. Prunes.”

The look on Gil’s face made Matthew giggle. “Hehe. Not a huge fan?”

Gil glared down at the jars’ contents. “I **hate** the verdammt things.” He looked toward the rest of the preserves on the table. “These better not _all_ be fucking prunes.”

“Haha. I guess we’ll have to open them and find out.”

Matthew walked over to the table and picked up another jar. Opening it, he also sniffed it and dipped his fingers in. Pulling them out, he delicately placed a single digit between his lips. His eyes closed and his body shivered on a groan. “Ummn. Oh yum. What _is_ this?”

Matthew dipped more fingers into the jar and started licking the black preserves off his hands. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Gil stiffen. Matthew grinned internally and plotted a wicked ploy.

He continued to savor the flavor of the mystery fruit. Biting his lip, Matthew scooped another dollop out and pushed the treat into his mouth on a single finger; pushing the digit in until his lips met the fleshy base of his hand and the finger’s tip reached the back of his mouth. Maintaining eye contact with Gil, Matthew slowly, ever so slowly, pulled the finger out of his mouth from between his berry-stained lips; a popping sound emitted from his plump opening as the finger was finally released from his mouths’ clutches. The end of his tongue darted out to languidly run along the underside of his finger in one long stroke.

Gil watched him with a heated look. His nostrils flared and his pupils dilated with want. His muscles tightened and blood flowed down to his cock. “Mind if I try some?”

Matthew’s eyes crinkled; simultaneously expressing both an invitation and a challenge. He once again dipped his finger into the jar and smeared it around his lips. “By all means, Gil. Come have a taste.”

Gil stepped forward and pressed Matthew back so his waist met the edge of the table. His right arm coiled around Matthew’s waist, while his left hand lifted to cradle the back of his head. Pushing his body flush against Matthew, he   pinned him between himself and the table. Gil brought his head down and captured Matthew’s lips in one fell swoop. Sweeping his tongue over Matthew’s sticky lips, Gil grazed and nipped at them, before delving in deeper to sample the remnants left on his tongue.

Drawing back, he grinned down at Matthew’s flushed face. “Tart Black Currant. **Very** fitting.”

Gil dove back down for more. They breathed in each other’s gasps until no oxygen remained between them. Matthew broke away and peppered kisses down Gil’s throat, grazing his teeth against the sensitive skin over his jugular vein.

His hands wondered on their own journey, finding a shortcut under Gil’s shirt and over the landscape of his chest. Fingers still sticky from the tart preserves flittered and stroked down the heated body under their touch. Heavy breathing and moans fluctuated the muscles in his care.

Matthew’s hand wandered down under the edge of Gil’s pants and palmed his engorged cock.

Gil stumbled back and broke away from Matthews’ heated assault. Breathing hard, he ran the back of his hand over his mouth and tried to once again fill his lungs with air. “Stop, Matthew. We should stop here.”

Matthew breathed just as heavy, but oxygen came second to his libido. “Why…..Do we….always….stop….here?”

Gil turned toward the fire. “It’s just better this way.”

Matthew stepped forward and spun Gil back around to face him. “Who gave you permission to decide what is best? I should have an equal vote on this issue too.”

Gil drew both hands down his face, the palms of his hands digging into his eyes. “We’ve been over this, Birdie. If I get too excited, I’m going to lose control and hurt you. **Badly**.”

Matthew grinned. “Kinky.”

Gil brought both hands down fisted at his sides. He leaned forward with the force of his peeved expression. “ **Can’t you take anything I say seriously?!?!** ”

Matthew stepped up to him and used both of his hands to draw Gil’s clenched fists to his chest. Holding them dear, he looked up into the eyes of his beast. “It’s not that I don’t take you seriously. You’re just making a bigger deal out of this than there needs to be.”

As he spoke, Matthew stepped backwards still clutching Gil’s hands to his chest; affectively leading him in the direction of the table. Pivoting as they reached it, Matthew reversed their earlier positions and pinned Gil between the table and himself. He moved Gil’s hands from his chest and fixed them on the edge of the table.

“That being said, if you’re **that** worried about it,” he walked his fingers down Gil’s chest before slipping the waistband of his trousers down his hips, exposing his erect cock. “I have methods of taking the edge off.”

“I don’t think-!”

Matthew silenced his protest with another deep kiss. Smirking up at him, Matthew slowly sank to his knees; drawing off Gil’s shirt and kissing his chest and abdomen along the way. “Exactly. Don’t think, **feel**.”

Matthew placed his hand against Gil’s thigh and traced small circles on his skin, exploiting a sensitive spot he’d takin note of in an earlier make-out session. With his other hand he stroked Gil’s length in his warm fist from base to tip; applying slight pressure over his puffy veins. With his mouth, he nuzzled the silver-white curls that formed a happy trail from the bottom of his belly button to the base of his cock and dusted his balls.  

Gil grunted and tried to protest one last time. “Birdie, this isn’t going to calm me down. In fact it’s doing the complete opposite.”

Matthew rolled his eyes as he continued to stroke him. “For goodness sake, Cherry-boy. I’m the one with experience, just let me take the lead. Now shut up and hold onto the table for dear life.”

Gil yelped and bowed at the waist as Matthew leaned forward and swirled his tongue around the head of his dick. Lathing the cap in amble saliva, Matthew pressed his tongue against the slit at its center; teasing out a drop of precum. Lapping it up, Matthew took pleasure in the preview of what was to come.

He took a final peak at Gil before focusing on his mission. Gil’s heavy breathing had returned; his ab muscles contorted on labored puffs of air. His hair fell forward over his shoulders to frame a face battling between two emotions. Apprehension……and Hunger. His dilated pupils mirrored the latter.

If Matthew had any remaining reservations about pushing Gil, they evaporated with the need displayed in those entrancing crimson orbs.

Opening up the airway in the back of his throat, Matthew took Gil in his mouth and sank down on Gil’s dick to the base; deep throating him in one go. He repositioned his hands to Gil’s thighs to steady himself.

Air refused to enter Gil’s lungs at the unknown sensation he was feeling. With one movement, Matthew’ had centered every nerve in his body to focus on the wet heat devouring the base of his pelvis. “Nnnhhhaaaahhh!”

The corners of Matthew’s lips quirked up at sound. _FINALLY! I have him right where I want him._

Drawing Gil’s dick back out and over his tongue, Matthew hollowed his cheeks to create a sucking friction as the outside chill provided an opposing sensation before engulfing him again.

Matthew repeated the action, varying the depth and angle he took Gil’s member. The thighs under his hands quivered under the assault. Sliding one hand along his inner thigh, Matthew cupped Gil’s balls and gently massaged the swollen testes. His other hand crept around the back to run along the crease of his ass cheeks. Probing in a little deeper, Matthew messaged his anus with a forefinger before Gil reached down to move his hand away and clutch the table once more.

_Guess that answers that. I prefer being bottom anyway…._

He moved his hand back to Gil’s thighs and switched between them with teasing caresses.

Gil tried to subdue his reaction; Matthew felt it. He tried to stay as stock still as possible, but involuntary shallow thrusts of his hips and the creaking protests of the table belied Gil’s true state. Too bad for him, Matthew was quite determined. He picked up speed, pushing himself to the limits of his throats’ capacity. With his virgin status; Gil didn’t stand a chance against Matthew’s assault.

“Ah! Ah! Scheisse, Birdie! I’m gonna- **AAAAhhhh!!!!!** ”

Gil’s upper half arched back over the side of the table and his hips jutted forward with the force of his orgasm. Matthew smiled with satisfaction around the massive surge of semen that jetted into his mouth. Repressing the urge to swallow, Matthew held Gil’s essence on his tongue to keep it from slipping down his throat.

He took a moment to appreciate the state of his beast.

Gil leaned nearly collapsed over the edge of the table. His legs refused to hold his weight under him and his head lay back on his shoulders; his eyes closed and his mouth gaped open on gasps. His entire body trembled from the aftershocks of his orgasm. A slight sheen of sweat covered his exposed skin; making his skin color argue over whether it should appear pearly or opaque. His complexion in the fire-light made the scars on his body more defined; almost like they were angry. Patterns of red splotches bloomed over his neck and chest; highlighting how much Matthew’s attentions had an effect on him.

Pleased with the results of his ministrations, Matthew turned and walked toward the “throne”; stripping his clothes off as he went. By the time Gil regained enough of his senses to notice he was no longer in front of him, Matthew had positioned himself on the throne for Gil’s viewing pleasure.

Matthew half slouched in the high-backed chair. His legs lifted and draped over the armrests, his anus on full display to the room at large.

Gil’s eyes widened with both alarm and interest. “B-Birdie….what are you doing?”

Matthew spat the cum and saliva onto his hand and gave Gil a toothy grin. “Prepping the main course with your seasoning.”

As Gil watched, his birdie reached down between his splayed legs. Using the cum and saliva mixture as lubricant, Matthew probed into the ring of muscle at the entrance of his ass. Massaging the tight band, he slipped a single finger past his barrier and stretched himself in anticipation of what would soon take the fingers’ place. Another finger, then three, now four.

While one hand worked at his puckered opening, the other stroked over his own erection. Precum wept from the slit at his hands’ coaxing; slicking his rough movements. Pumping the throbbing member heightened his excitement and helped to relax the straining muscles in his rear. Anticipation and impatience warred with his better sense. The look in Gil’s eyes didn’t help.

Matthew held Gil’s gaze throughout the entire procedure. He saw Gil’s expressions evolve from embarrassment to curiosity, then hunger and raw need. Matthew reveled in those emotions; they accelerated his excitement and heightened his arousal. Especially when his show brought Gil’s dick to attention for round two with little prompting.

Once he could comfortably move four fingers around inside himself, Matthew deemed he was “good enough.”

Matthew removed his submerged fingers on an exhale before beckoning Gil forward with a crooked finger. “Take off those trousers and get over here.”

Gil obeyed in a sort of daze; his breath sawed in and out, while his pulse resonated in his ears. Removing his trousers, he stumbled over and sank to his knees between Matthew’s splayed legs.

He paused with trepidation.

Matthew took Gil’s hands and kissing both of them placed them on the underside of the chair for him to grip. He raised his hands to frame either side of Gil’s and arched himself up to give him a tender kiss.

“Ssshhhh. Don’t be nervous. I got you.”

He stroked a hand through Gil’s hair. “Just grip the chair, like you did the table and it will anchor you.” Matthew winked cheekily. “I’ll catch whatever you give me.”

Gil snorted. Trust his Birdie to make fun of any situation.

Gil stared down into the face of that which was precious to him. So many emotions roiled through him; hunger…..anxiety…..fear. Only one emotion outshone the rest. **Hope.**

 He leaned down to rest his forehead against Matthew’s. “I’m scared Birdie.”

Matthew pushed lightly on his shoulder until he lifted back up. “Do you trust me, Gil?”

Gil understood the weight Matthew put behind that question. He understood its significance. His voice cracked on his reply. “Ja.”

Keeping eye contact, Matthew reached between them and gripping Gil’s erection, and drew it to his body’s entrance.

“Then come inside me.”

Gil closed his eyes on a weary sigh. _I’m such a goner._

He shifted his weight forward and breached the ring to Matthew’s core.

 **“Hah…Schei** **ße-!”**

**“Umn, Fuck-!”**

Gil paused just inside his entrance.  Matthew’s already flushed face scrunched up in what Gil assumed was pain; his eyes closed and his back arched. “Birdie, are you-?”

Matthew opened his eyes and raised his arms to latch onto the back of the chair above him. “I’m alright……shit, don’t you dare stop.”

Gil let out a held breath and pushed down on Matthew’s hips. Slowly, millimeter by millimeter, he sank deeper into his liquid heat; bottoming out.

Matthew strained from the invasion. The delicious stretch bordered just on this side of pain. The rapture of being filled to the brim, of taking a part of Gil inside himself; God it was glorious.

“Oh God, Gil.” Matthew arched his hips, shifting the angle and impaling himself from beneath. “Please move.”

Gil trembled from sensual overload, but obeyed. His first thrusts were little more than animalistic jerks of his hips. They were sporadic and lacked any kind of finesse. They outlined how desperate and far gone he was.

Matthew loved it. The man making love to him was now **his** beast in every sense of the word.

He absolutely reveled in it.

Gil continued to thrust into Matthew. As they continued the exercise, something clicked in Gil. He ignored whatever held him back. His movements became less jumbled and erratic. He picked up a rhythm and purposefully alternated his depth and speed.

His entire attention centered on Matthew’s face. Crimson mirrored his intentions back to Matthew. He had every intention of seizing control from Matthew and making him just as desperate as he was.

Matthew let him.

Using Matthew’s expressions for reference, Gil discovered his preferences and pleasure points. Once he discovered Matthew’s prostate, there was no taking back control.

Gil took advantage of the extra sensitive spot and brought him to a quick and explosive climax.

As Gil rammed his prostate with the full movement of his thrusts, Matthew lost his mind. The pleasure was just too much. The emotions and reactions from Gil mirrored his own. He let go of the back of the chair and latched his arms around Gil’s neck for any kind of purchase he could find. Gil launched him higher.

Matthew’s mind blanked, he lost his balance on the edge, and fell.

Brocken gasps accompanied his climax as his cum jetted out over both their torsos.

Gil grunted at the sudden increase in tightness around his thrusting cock. His hips hitched a few more times and he followed after his birdie. Riding out the sudden wave of pleasure overtaking him, Gil did as his lover asked. He came inside.

Whatever strength Gil had left in his legs left him as the pleasure waves receded. They gave out and he slumped onto Matthew; his head resting in the crook of Matthew’s shoulder. Gil’s entire body shuddered on his labored breaths. His partner heaved breaths just as hard.

Long minutes passed and Matthew stroked a hand through Gil’s hair. “Alright, big guy. As much as love you finally hot, sweaty, naked, and on top of me. You’re making it really hard to breathe.”

Gil groaned and lifted his head to lazily peer at Matthew. He nipped Matthew’s bottom lip, then licked it to sooth the teasing hurt. Gathering his knees underneath him, Gil shifted his weight and attempted to stand. He got half-way to a full standing position before a jerk to his hands prevented the rest of his accent.

“Ah……this is embarrassing.”

Matthew frowned, confused. “What’s embarrassing?”

Gil blushed slightly and looked to the side. “My nails are stuck in the chair.”

 

***

 

“I can’t believe we had to break the chair.”

“I can’t believe you got them stuck in the first place.”

Gil narrowed his eyes down at Matthew’s Cheshire cat grin. The two were wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets, linens, and tapestries on the hall floor in front of the roaring fire. They snuggled tight; still naked.

“We are not discussing that.”

“Oh, come on. I think it’s cute.”

Gil pouted and heaved a sigh. “I’m still surprised it was that easy. There were a few times I thought I’d lose control, but it never happened.”

“I told you. You were making a big deal out of nothing. And aren’t you glad you listened to the voice of experience?”

A sudden thought occurred to Gil and he paused. “You know, Birdie. You definitely knew what you were doing.” He me Matthew’s eyes. “I never asked you why you escaped to the Dark Wood.”

He shifted to his side so Matthew lay on his own side facing him, with his head resting on Gil’s outstretched left arm. The other arm rested on Matthew’s side. “After sharing with you today, I think I am entitled to an explanation. You insinuated you were running from the law. Were you actually running from your family? ......Or a lover?”

Matthew flinched and looked away from Gil. “I have a little more experience than you, and that makes me a slut?”

Gil held Matthew’s chin and brought his head back to face Matthew. He stroked his cheek with his thumb. “That’s not what I said. I’m curious where you learned such things. And delighted. I thought I would stop dead when you started fingering yourself. You looked so delicious, laying there all spread out for me.”

Matthew snorted, then sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s a touchy subject for me.” He shifted his gaze away, darted it back, then looked away again. “I’ll tell you, but you can’t interrupt me okay?”

Gil nodded solemnly.

Matthew let out a held breath and began. “I already told you my brother and I are viewed differently. He’s the most popular guy in the village and I’m invisible. As such, he had a lot of admirers. A few of them mistook me for my brother and confessed.”

Matthew shook his head. “I of course was overjoyed. I mean hell, I didn’t even think to turn anyone down. I was so unbelievably happy that someone actually wanted **me**. Not my brother. **Me**. Matthew.”

A harsh chuckle left Matthew’s throat. “Looking back, I should have realized……they never called me by my name. It was always “you” or some nickname or another.”

Gil felt a pang in his chest. How could someone mistake the spunky little trouble maker for anyone else?

“Anyway, in the end it never worked out. At some point they all realized I wasn’t Alfred. Some of them dumped me on the spot, others felt bad and tried to make it work. It never did. I wasn’t the right brother.”

Matthew paused and Gil encouraged him to continue. “By then I had already slept with a lot of them. Each new confession renewed my hope that maybe……maybe this time it was real. Maybe this one was for keeps. Like a fool, my hope censored what was obvious.”

“Oh, Birdie.” Gil hugged Matthew tighter. He wrapped his arms around Matthew and brought his head into his chest; perching his own chin atop Matthew’s tousled hair.

Matthew snuggled into his chest and breathed in the scent of pine needles and danger.

Gil stroked his hair. “So if you weren’t running from a lover or your family, what exactly drove you into the Dark Wood?”

Matthew stiffened. “Carlos Machado.”

Gil looked down. “Who’s Carlos Machado?”

“He’s the sheriff of the village.” Matthew choked on a bark of laughter. “Seriously! Only one other person besides my brother noticed me, and it just **had** to be him!”

“What did you do, Birdie?”

Matthew snorted, his voice dripped with menace. “I existed. I still have absolutely no idea what drew him to me. One day he saw me across the main square and decided right then and there I **belonged** to him! Everywhere I went, he was there. Watching me. Always watching me. He’d stare at me no matter where we were or who saw it. _So creepy_. He kept his distance when Al still lived with me in our cottage. But once he left to become a knight, I became fair game. I managed to avoid him for a few weeks, but the morning I stumbled into your camp……..He tried to rape me.”

Pure unadulterated fury erupted through Gil. His shoulders stiffened and his teeth ached as he clenched them together. His eyes turned a shade darker, drunk on his bloodlust.

“Hey! Gil!” Matthew looked up and drew his attention toward him. “It’s okay. The bastard didn’t get very far. He pinned me down and in the struggle I grabbed a rock and bashed in his skull. I knocked him unconscious and ran for it. Upteen hours later you nearly beheaded me with an axe.”

Gil’s fury died down some and his muscles lost some of their tension. A spark of pride surfaced for his little birdie. “I’m glad you gave it to him. Though he should have gotten far more punishment than that.” Gil looked Matthew directly in the eye. “How far did he get?”

Matthew’s face crumbled and he looked away. “He kissed me……a-and…..he fingered me.”

Gil vowed if he ever met the man, he’d give him hell. “I’m sorry, Birdie. I’m so sorry.”

Matthew snuggled back into Gil’s chest and let silent tears leak over his scars. His body shook. Gil held him even tighter and rubbed a soothing hand over his back. He let him unleash all the emotions he’d kept hidden.

It took nearly an hour before Matthew stopped crying. Gil’s heart fissured as Matthew shuddered in his arms. The circumstances surrounding Matthew’s flight only solidified his pessimistic view of humanity.

**_They can all eat mein Scheisse._ **

“Gil?”

Gil brought his attention back to Matthew. “What is it, Birdie?”

“I’ve made a decision.”

Matthew pushed Gil onto his back and straddled his hips. Gil’s happy dick twitched at their new positions.

Gil **very much** like the sudden shift in atmosphere. “Go on.”

Matthew took a deep breath and met Gil’s lusty gaze. “I’m not leaving in the spring.”

Gil felt both elation and dread simultaneously in the instant following Matthew’s proclamation. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not leaving. I am going to stay right here in the Dark Wood with you.”

Gil began to panic. There was no way he could let Matthew stay. He’d revealed a lot this evening, but nothing compared to the _real_ reason he remained hidden in the Dark Wood. Or exactly _who_ was hunting him. Keeping Matthew near him was just too great a risk.

 _And yet_ …….Gil tried to imagine Matthew leaving for the Krasnyy border without him and nearly vomited. His lungs refused to take in air at the mere _thought_ of losing his Birdie. _How can I live without him now?_

“Gil.”

Matthew drew his worried gaze to focus back on him. “Neither of us has anywhere else to go. I’ve lost my home and my brother is following his own path now. I don’t know all the circumstances behind your isolation here, but I do know one thing.”

Matthew framed his face with his hands. “I need you, Gil...and….and I think you need me too. Please don’t ask me to go.”

Gil closed his eyes tight. How could he possibly argue with that? Everything Matthew said was true. **_I can’t be alone again._**

Gil opened his eyes, and with a reproachful scowl, ruffled Matthew’s hair affectionately. “Somehow, I get the feeling nothing I say will change your mind.”

Matthew nodded drolly. “That would be correct.”

Gil sighed and pulled Matthew more tightly into his chest. “You are **most definitely** a bothersome little pretty package.”

 

** German Translations: **

  1. Verdammt = Dammit
  2. Scheisse = Shit
  3. Scheiße = Fuck
  4. Ja = Yes/Yah
  5. Mein = My/Mine



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello All! This is Challenged! Holy Crap-oly this chapter ended up being SO LONG!!!! *Rubs exploded and overused cranium* Anyway, we finally got to the sex scene! Hopefully it was everything you guys hoped for. I will admit this is my first time writing a sex scene, so if you guys want to comment and critique, please do! I would really appreciate the feedback. Until next time! (^^)


	15. Chapter #13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone! Challenged here, we’re back! Sorry we’ve been gone for so long. If you didn’t see it on our profile page we are in the process of relocating/moving and on hiatus until things quiet down. *Sigh* Long-story-short, my SO of nearly five years dumped me and I’ve been less than enthusiastic to write anything let alone something romantic. Anyway, I’m not gonna unload everything on you guys. You come here to get away from your problems, not hear about mine. We’ll just say the situation is “complicated”. I’ve been writing when I can, but it’s been rough. I felt bad for keeping you all waiting, so I tried really hard to get something out to you. Here you go!  
> *Silver-lining, I’m moving out of the house I shared with SO and am now going to live with Talent! (^^) With any luck she will kick my ass into gear and bother/harass me to write faster for you guys. (No promises though!)  
> So we’re past the “foundation” part of this fanfic and are getting into the main action/conflict portion of the story. Haha some of you are sitting there going “…..Wait. I thought the bear attack and stuff was the actioney part of the story. You mean it’s not?” MUAHAHAHA!!!!!! YOU KNOW NOTHING!!!!!!! (^^) Hope you have seatbelts ready, ‘cause here….we….GO!

Early morning sunlight streamed in through the open door of the cabin to dance rainbow shadows along its back wall. The two lovers lay nestled in their cot’s furs, **very** satisfied. Three days had passed since their excursion to the ruins and Matthew’s proclamation.  After returning to the cabin the next morning, the two had barely spent a minute without touching; without kissing. Apparently Gil was keen on making up the years lost to his virginity. Matthew was more than happy to…..assist him.

Gil held a sleeping Matthew against his chest with one arm at his back. With the other he laced his fingers through the disheveled blonde strands hiding his lovers’ face. Tucking them behind the shell of Matthew’s ear, Gil peered down into the softened face of his little miracle.

_How could I be so lucky?_

He’d been alone for so long and now. After seeing him at nearly his worst, there was someone who not only understood and accepted what he had become; Matthew **demanded** his presence in his future too.

Gil had never been so happy and scared. Even after everything that had been done to him, even after all the pain and suffering he’d been forced to cause so he’d survive; nothing would compare to losing the hope Matthew was.

And he was. Matthew was his hope. His one last good thing he could hold onto. To touch and taste with his own two hands. In Matthew he had gained something he honestly never thought to claim again. To lose it now would be far more damaging after he’d attained it.

Matthew let out a soft snore in his sleep and nuzzled his face deeper into Gil’s chest.  A long breath escaped Gil’s own lungs. He’d spent too many days enjoying nothing but Matthew’s company and his body. If Matthew was serious about staying, (which he vehemently confirmed every time Gil objected) they would need to make preparations.

Starting with more supplies and confiscating his belongings from his and Alfred’s cottage. Gil needed to make sure if Alfred ever returned, there would be no trace of Matthew left. Nothing that would connect Matthew to the Dark Wood. He would simply disappear from the village and eventually, from people’s memories as well.

Gil also wanted to investigate Sheriff Machado. If he still had an interest in Matthew or if there were actual charges against him; it could be a problem.

He stroked Matthew’s cheek lovingly, a small smile on his lips, before untangling himself from said troublesome little pretty package and dressing with his mission in mind.

Gil donned his usual black trousers and shirt along with his matching worn boots. Walking to the row of hooks on the wall, he retrieved a cloak fashioned from the previous pack Alpha. His immense size made the dead brute a perfect fit for the garment. His black as midnight fur blended in with the shadows of the forest and the shear amount of hide fully covered Gil’s stature from head to foot. There was even enough left over for a full hood and cowl Gil could use to hide his face.

He donned the cloak and gathered a ruck sack full of furs before placing it near the door. Turning back around, he knelt down and pressed a sweet kiss to Matthew’s forehead. The young blonde murmured in his sleep and rolled toward Gil. A single hand reached out and grabbed onto Gil’s cloak in an attempt to drag him back onto the cot.

“Mhm…wah-what you doin? Get back here. Need snuggles.”

Gil grinned down at Matthew’s adorable demand. “As tempted as I am to get back in there and……snuggle you. I have errands to run. I’ll try and be back before late afternoon. Stay out of trouble Birdie.”

Matthew blinked up at Gil with a childish, sleepy pout. He was not a morning person.

“Fine. Go run your errand. You better make it up to me later.” He rolled over giving his back to Gil and buried himself deeper into the furs.

Gil knelt farther over and buried his nose in Matthew’s hair, nuzzling it. “Oh, you better believe I’ll make it up to you.” He nipped lightly at Matthew’s ear. “Make sure you rest well. You’re gonna need it.”

Matthew gave a noncommittal grunt in response, already asleep once more.

Gil quickly got up before he was tempted to stay and taste the rest of that delectable body, gathered the fur sack, and walked out the door. He stopped momentarily to grab the fur of Kuma’s mother off the drying rack. Running across the clearing, Gil made it one hundred or so feet into the tree line and stopped in front of a massive dead maple. Reminding himself to show Matthew the rest of the entrances to the underground tunnels, he cleared away the debris of fallen logs and dead plants before slipping in and covering it up again.

This particular tunnel, he used to get to the village to sell his furs without being followed. He didn’t need a light and took off at a steady run through the tunnel toward Matthew’s village. By taking the tunnel and bypassing the terrain he would be there by midmorning.

 

***

 

Gil stepped out of the village tailors’ shop with a heavy pouch of coins and two bolts of fabric to make Matthew new clothes; one light and one heavy. He hated to be morbid, but the death of Kuma’s mother was heartily appreciated for the weight of the coin her fur had gotten him.

He made three more trips to different shops. The millers for vegetable seeds to plant a garden, flour and sugar. The blacksmith to pick up some actual cooking pans and utensils. And, finally the cobblers to get Matthew some much needed boots.

Once he had safely hidden his purchased items in the entrance to the tunnel located on the opposite side of the small creek, Gil made his way over to Matthews’ cottage.

It wasn’t hard to find. Though it was old, Gil could smell Matthew in every facet of the small drafty building. Gil narrowed his eyes as he took in the structure. His cabin might not be much, but at least you couldn’t see through the verdammt walls. Gil circled the building discretely before sneaking in through a cloth covered window.

The garden was in rough shape and the outhouse had been knocked over by a winter storm.

A notice was nailed to the door advising no one to enter under orders of the local sheriff. The cabin was under investigation. Below the notice was a wanted poster with a rough sketch of a young man with wavy blonde hair. A single name “Matthew” was written across the top and under the description a hefty award of 5£ was offered for his live capture.

His birdie was officially wanted for assaulting a Sheriff in His Majesties Service.

Once inside the cottage, Gil drew back in surprise with the force of the malicious odor permeating the tiny space.

Nothing was in its correct place. What few belongings remained, were strewn across the floor of the single room in complete disarray; either broken and smashed or filthy from the dirt floor.

Someone had searched the cottage. In angry desperation at that.

Only the smell of three people remained in the structure. His Birdie he recognized immediately. The second was nearly nonexistent, it was so faint and old. His brother Alfred, Gil assumed.

**But the third. Oh, the third.**

The third was not a smell. It was stench. Simple, but far from pure.

Gil shifted a piece of Matthew’s clothing on the single narrow straw-filled mattress in the corner with a booted toe. The stench wafted up from the ruined article as it was moved.

Whoever searched the house had fucked into Matthew’s clothing so violently, they hand torn right through the fabric. Breaching not only decency itself, but the single thread of Gil’s remaining leniency.

He sneered down at the cum sodden fabric. This Sheriff Carlos Machado better prey to his gods he never found himself in the Dark Wood. If he did, Gil would truly become the demon people said he was. With pleasure. He had done far worse under far less provocation.

**“What the fuck did you do with my brother Machado?!?!?!”**

Gil drew up at the shouted question.

_Shit! Someone’s outside!_

As softly as he could, Gil retreated out the same window he’d entered with; leaving the belongings inside behind. No way was he bringing such disgraceful articles back to Matthew.

Climbing a pine towering over the cottage behind its main structure, he peered down at the two figures arguing at its front.

Gil narrowed his eyes as he hid in the recesses of his needle camouflage.

 _Seriously? **That’s** his **identical**_ twin brother?

Gil could smell them both from his hiding place and recognized the second and third scents from the cottage. He conceded he _did_ resemble his Birdie. However, his expression seemed to be set on permanent derp. Completely different from the sass Gil had come to expect from his Birdie. The spikey and messy cowlick up the side of his head didn’t exactly help.

The young blonde was arguing with a middle-aged tan man. Unkempt with his dreadlocks pulled from his grungy face.  Nasty breath floated up to Gil and he gagged silently. _When was the last time this guy even attempted hygiene?_

Simply put, the man was a complete wreck. If Gil didn’t know better, he’d think the man’s family had died.

Matthew’s twin smelled it too. Apparently you didn’t need blood magic to smell how putrid the corrupt sheriff was.

“Where is he Machado?”

Gil forced himself to ignore his gag reflex and focus on their conversation.

“I don’t know Alfred.” He stepped closer and got in the twin’s personal space. “Would I be bothering with a reward if I did?”

Alfred stepped up to the challenge and stood up to the taller man. Not backing down, he got as close as he height would allow to the sheriffs smudgy glare.

“Don’t give me that shit. I know exactly what will happen with those false charges. My brother didn’t do shit! Or maybe you pushed him into a corner. Forced him to do something he never would’ve otherwise. You think I don’t know what you are? You’ve always been after my brothers’ ass. I might be stupid sometimes, but I’m not a complete idiot! You’ve always followed him with your gaze.”

Alfred snarled, utter disgust in the curve of his mouth; knowing in his eyes. “As soon as my brother is found, you’ll use your warrant to lock him up in a cell. Completely isolated from the rest of the world. Completely and forever at your mercy. Your plaything, on display in your private toy box to do with as you like.”

He stuck a finger into the Sheriffs chest. Hard. “You think I’ll let my only family get destroyed by your sick game? I won’t! You just watch. _I’ll_ save my brother. _I’ll_ be his hero!”

Carlos sneered and ran his tongue along his teeth. “You’ve always been full of it Alfred. No amount of knight training can overcome your incompetence. You wanna be a hero? What bullshit! You couldn’t save yourself, let alone your brother. Your fumbling is why people like me exist. Your brother would be lucky to see my mercy. I am the law here. I hold the power. You. Are nothing.”

Alfred’s face broke out into a beaming smile. “You’re right. I’m only a page and you’re a sheriff. But last time I checked, General trumps Sheriff. Especially the one I’m in training with.”

Alfred turned and strode away, confident he’d won. “My master takes justice and law very seriously Machado.” He paused to look over his shoulder. “He takes family even more so.” He faced forward and strode forth once more. “You have until I find my brother to run. If you’re lucky the creatures of the Dark Wood will avoid your foulness. I and my master won’t be so nice.”

The twin walked toward the main part of town without a backward glance.

Gil didn’t know if his arrogance was justified or born of pure stupidity. He was kind of impressed.

Sheriff Machado glared down his retreating back until he disappeared around the corner of another cottage. Slamming his fist into the stone wall surrounding the cottage, he strode inside and began destroying its interior in his frustration.

Gil snorted. _An arrogant and petulant child throwing a fit._

He let his eyes stray to the brother making his way among the other villagers. His thoughts drifted to his own idiot. His Birdie. The affection between the two was mutual. That much was definitely clear. Gil remembered the look on his beloveds’ face when he spoke of his only family.

And he did, Gil thought with a start.

**_I love Matthew._ **

Not like he loved his litter brother, but something more. Something more primal and fixed. The kind of love that made you do stupid things.

He kept track of Alfred as an idea formed in his head. A mental picture of his Birdies’ smiling face clear in his mind’s eye. The idea was beyond idiotic, it was just insane.

Gil dropped from the pine tree silently and crept forward in pursuit of the brother. Rounding cottages and other buildings, he trailed his progress. Alfred made his way through the village interviewing and chatting with the other residents. No one gave him the answers he sought. Instead they all directed the conversation back to the young page. Excited to hear what the popular man had been up to in the capitol.

Alfred didn’t press. His expression and demeanor much more relaxed, jovial, and carefree.

_Ficken goofy is what he is._

Gil continued to tail him until he went behind a building and headed toward the tree line. Disappearing behind a larger oak, he whipped out his dick and sighed; taking an appreciative leak.

Gil rolled his eyes. _This is too easy._ Circling and coming up behind him, Gil waited until his stream ended before using the full length of his body to pin the young man against the tree. Each hand pressed Alfred’s wrists into the bark. Both feet placed against the inside of Alfred’s legs to keep his feet apart and in place.

Gil brought his face right next to Alfred’s ear and spoke into it with his Alpha voice. Demanding his obedience. He couldn’t let this go wrong. Both his and Matthew’s safety depended on Alfred following his orders exactly. **“Do not raise your voice. Do not struggle.”**

Alfred gave out a squeak of surprise and wiggled in surprise. His reaction only got him pressed more deeply into the uncomfortable bark.

“What the hell do you want you perverted fuck?!?! My ass is closed for business!” He hissed back at his assailant.

Gil chuckled darkly. **“Relax precious. You’re not my type.”**

“Then what do you want?!?!”

 **“A conversation.”** He paused, waiting for Alfred to focus solely on what he said next. **“I know where your brother is.”**

Alfred stiffened at his admission. “Where is he? What have you done with him?!?!”

Gil tightened his grip on Alfred’s wrists threateningly.

 **“I said keep your voice down! I have done nothing but protect him.”** _No matter how hard he tries to kill himself._ Gil silently added and rolled his eyes.

“I don’t believe you! Where is my brother?!?! Who the fuck are you? Are you too scared to show me your face? I bet you’re ugly as shit you ass!”

Gil stepped back. He spun Alfred around and releasing his hold on his wrists, switching one of his hands to clasp around the twins’ throat. This time pinning his back and slamming his skull against the tree. He didn’t extend enough force to cut off his air, but he did grip hard enough to make it slightly uncomfortable.

Alfred used both hands to grasp at the wrist holding down his neck. His eyes glared down his concealed attacker. He sneered at the hood and cowl completely covering his face. “I was right. Too scared to show your ugly mug? Will I mistake your ass for your face?”

Gil snorted. The kid had more spunk than some seasoned soldiers he’d fought alongside. _We’ll see how long that lasts._ Using his free hand, he brought down his cowl over his chin, then drew back the hood of his cloak; leveling his blood-stained eyes on the young man under his mercy. In the darkness of the tree line, they glowed an unmistakable eerie crimson.

Alfred’s eyes shot wide with fear and surprise. His mouth hung half open, a silent gasp on his lips. “You-you’re…….”

Gil’s eyes slanted upward and his mouth split open on a sly grin that accentuated his pointed canines. **“What’s the matter little Alfred? Is my face so striking to behold it made you speechless?”** He paused and the curve of his expression morphed into something degrading and superior. **“Or perhaps you understand exactly who you are dealing with.”**

Alfred fought to overcome his fear. “Th-the…..-!”

**“Go on. SAY IT!!!”**

Matthew’s brother snapped his mouth shut. Stealing himself, he stared the figure before him down. “The Beast of the Dark Wood.”

Gil nodded. **“Good.”**

“The Beast of the Dark Wood took Mattie…..” A sad and murderous countenance came over his expression. “You ate him didn’t you! You fucking _demon_! I’ll-!”

Gil lifted his free hand and covered Alfred’s mouth. Instead of flinching when teeth sunk into his fingers, he sighed in exasperation. **“So dramatic. Why does everyone just _assume_ I eat people? I didn’t ambush you to discuss mein Gro** **ßmutters’ secret recipes for human flesh.”**

“Then why did you?”

**“I’m _trying_ to explain the situation and possibly bring you to your brother, but _someone_ keeps making me think better of it.”**

Alfred perked up instantly.

**“Do I have your attention NOW?”**

He tried to nod in Gil’s hold, muffled gibberish leaking through the openings between his fingers. **“Stop! No talking!”**

He waited for Alfred to quiet once more. **“I’m going to remove my hand now. You will not speak, you will listen. I will only do this if you listen to my instructions EXACTLY. The moment I change my mind, I will knock you out. You will never see your brother again. Blink twice if you understand.”**

He blinked twice without hesitation.

Gil removed his hand. **“Ja. I am the one people call the Beast of the Dark Wood. My preference for human flesh is….exaggerated. Matthew ran into my territory escaping your Sheriff.”**

He paused. **“It would be better if you heard the why from him.”**

As he talked, Alfred relaxed with relief. **“He’s been staying with me under my protection. Now. I would like to take you to meet him, but I have some rules. I will need to blindfold you.”**

The twin opened his mouth to object. **“What did I just say about following my orders?”** He promptly closed it.

**“I will not compromise on Matthew’s safety. Even if you are his brother, I won’t give you information that could possibly put him in danger later on. I have my own reasons for remaining hidden as well. Do you agree to come quietly and let me blindfold you?”**

Alfred narrowed his eyes, looking the figure before him up and down. “How do I know you won’t take me off to your lair and eat me? What reason do I have to trust you?”

Gil grinned down at his Birdie’s brother, a sardonic tilt to his words. His arms spread wide and open. Mocking Alfred with his honesty. **“Nothing. You have absolutely no reason to trust me at all.”**

Alfred stared him down, trying to discern the truth. He found no answer to his question. Could he really trust this man? Sure he knew their names….and his story would explain his brother’s sudden disappearance. In the end, he had to take the chance. Even if he ended up dead, he had to see his brother. He had to see him alright and alive.

He met Gil’s eyes. “Alright. I’ll go with you. Blindfolded.” The last word he spat out.

Gil nodded his head curtly. **“Alright. I assume you’re staying at the inn with your master? Go pick up your things. Someone will notice if they’re left there, but you’re missing. Don’t talk to anyone and don’t wander off. When you have them, discreetly walk into the tree line. I will be watching and find you. If you deviate at all, I will disappear. You will never get another chance. Do you understand my instructions?”**

Alfred didn’t like it, but he agreed anyway. **“Good. Get going.”**

Gil stepped back and motioned to the blonde that he could leave. He pushed off and stomped toward the village; toward the inn and the room with his belongings.

**“Oh, Alfred.”**

***

 

Alfred stopped short at the amusement in the demon’s voice. _What the hell does he want now?_

He turned back around with his hands on his hips. “What?!”

 **“You should probably put that away.”** He smirked at Alfred, indicating toward his groin.

Confused, Alfred looked down at the front of his pants. His full body blush was immediate and brutal.

_Had minnie-me been out this entire time?!?!?!_

He hastily took hold of his wayward and flaccid dick, stuffing it back into his trousers.

The ass-hat just laughed at him.

“Shut up! I’m not the pervert that pinned someone up against a tree while he was taking a piss!”

He snorted at that. **“Spare me. I was a complete gentleman and waited until your stream ran dry.”**

“So you _were_ watching me! Pervert!”

The Beast rolled his eyes again and let out a weary sigh. **“I’m reconsidering…..”** He drawled.

“Fine! Fuck you! I’m going!”

He took off once again toward the inn. Closing the door behind him, he looked around for his master. Nowhere to be found.

Alfred suddenly realized two problems.

One, leaving without informing his master would mark him as a deserter; and he had no intention of becoming one of _those_.

Second, his belongings included a horse. He doubted the Beast would qualify him leading his horse through the village as “inconspicuous”.

_The old man can just hide it for me._

With this thought, he quickly pulled precious paper, ink, and a quill from his pack. Using his atrocious and juvenile penmanship, he wrote the General and his master a quick note.

Gathering everything once more and shoving it in his pack, he left his room and paused just inside the front door of the inn; out of view from the tree line.

Spotting the Miller’s son Henry, Alfred got his attention and waved him over.

The boy trotter forward. “Alfred! Did you need something?”

Alfred smiled down at the boy. “Henry! Good to see you!” He ruffled the boys’ hair. “I have a favor to ask. You know who my master is, right? The General?”

The boy nodded enthusiastically, happy of the attention from the village legend and hero.

“I need you to take this note to him for me. It’s top-secret so you can’t look at it. Can you do that?”

He handed the folded note to him. The boy took it and held it tight to his chest. “I can do it! I promise I won’t look!”

Alfred smiled and put his hand on the boys shoulder. “Great! I’m counting on you, Henry!”

Henry tilted his head as he smiled up at Alfred. As he did, a lock of his hair fell forward and the spot where his ear used to be was revealed.

“Henry! What happened to your ear?!?!”

The boy clapped a palm over the small indent on the side of his head. His eyes widened in fear so much, he started to tear up. Trembling, he backed away from Alfred. “N-nothing! Nothing happened! I-I need to deliver this!”

“Henry!”

He took off across the village square.

_Shit!!!_

Alfred clasped both hands into fists in frustration. He didn’t have time for this. He needed to get to Mattie. _I’ll deal with this when I get back._

Picking up his pack, he made his way back through the inn, out the back door, and into the tree line.

 

***

 

Carlos Machado, Sheriff in the service of his Majesty, watched the front door of the inn with great suspicion.

He’d been reclining in front of his office and jail-house when he’d seen his misbehaving pet’s litter mate walk straight out of the tree line and straight into the inn. He’d come out of the wood with too much purpose to have just come back from a mere piss.

_The thorn in my side is up to something._

He needed to do something about the pest and he needed to do it before he made good on his implied threat. Carlos sneered at the thought. He’d worked and manipulated too much to lose it all now.

_You’re dead little shit. I’m the Sheriff here. My word **is** the law here. I’m the one in power, not some pathetic child struggling at playing squire._

As he ground his teeth, a shadowed figure waved to the Miller’s son. The boy rushed forward and the two conversed. A note was passed and a hand settled on the boys’ head. A moment later, the boy was backing away and running into the bustle of the main square. The shadowed figure stepped out enough to reveal his identity. Stopping short, an unheard shout on his lips, he turned and disappeared back into the inn.

Carlos grinned. Something was indeed afoot and he was going to find out what.

Skimming through the crowd, he found the boy. Striding into the crowd, he grabbed the boy by the hair and dragged him into his jail-house. No one stopped him. _They wouldn’t dare._

The child’s cries of pain and distress fell on deaf ears.

Hauling the boy in, he slammed him down on his wooden desk; knocking the air out of his lungs.

“Well, well. If it isn’t little Henry. What have you been up to Henry? Not something naughty I hope.”

He traced a finger over the indent where his ear used to be. “I had hoped you last sentence would be enough to teach you your lesson.”

The whimpering little sack was barely understandable through this sputtering and crying. “N-no, sir. Pl-please I learned my lesson. I’m being a-a good boy. I p-promise.”

“Oh?” He snatched the note still clutched in the boys’ hands. “Espionage is considered treason, boy. I would have to execute you for betraying your country. Your parents and siblings too.”

He waved it under his nose. “You don’t mind if I check this note to make sure it’s not treasonous.” He yanked his head farther back against the table, ripping more hair from his hair. “Do you, boy?”

“N-no, sir. P-please.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Carlos unfolded the note in his hand and read. His eyes widened first with surprise, then with predatory anticipation.

_My, my. What an interesting turn of events._

The child on his desk began gasping the longer he stayed silent. Sneering down at the trash littering the surface he shoved it off by its hair. He re-folded and dropped the note next to the crumbled heap on the floor. “Get out, before I change my mind. And take that poor excuse for writing with you.”

The boy wasted no time in scrambling out the door; half on his feet, half crawling on his knees.

Carlos sat back in his desk chair and resumed reclining in it.

 _A very interesting turn of events indeed._ _Looks like I won’t need the reward after all._

“José. I know you’re there. Stop lurking and come out.”

His constant stalker and assistant emerged from somewhere behind him. Carlos was used to it, the man was never far from hand. Always watching, always waiting. A constant shadow, ready to take his place should he fall.

Quite the useful fellow to have around. In spite of his intended usurpage, he was quite the loyal dog. If it wasn’t for the betrayal always lurking beneath the man’s skin, Carlos would have made him his deputy long ago.

“Yes, my lord?”

Carlos sneered at the address. _He grovels so low. It’s adorable._ “Gather all the villagers in town square.”

He turned his head to look his servant dead in the eye, his meaning clear. “We’re going hunting.”

 

** German Translations: **

  1. Mein = Mine/My
  2. Verdammt = Damn
  3. Ja = Yes
  4. Ficken = Fucking
  5. Großmutter = Grandmother



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! Challenged here! Originally this chapter and the next were supposed to be one big chapter, but it’s been so long since we’ve updated this ff, I decided to split it into two. (I am god here, I do what I want! *smirk*) We are still in the process of relocating/moving, so we are technically still on hiatus (if you didn’t see the notice, we posted it on our profile page), but I will try and write when I can and update as soon as possible. Thank you guys for all the support and see you next time!  
> Side Note: In case anyone was wondering or thought the reward posted on Matthew’s wanted poster was pocket change, I assure you. IT WAS NOT!!!  
> I used an online historical exchange rate. Since the setting of this ff is heavily based and mirrored after the Medieval/Middle Ages (roughly 5th-15th Century), I randomly chose 1423 A.D. for reference with this. *Keep in mind this is all based on the specific converter we used.  
> What we found is that 5£ (European pound) in 1423 A.D. is worth roughly the same as $5,000 in 2017.  
> 5£ (Matthew’s reward) = (roughly) $5,000  
> Or for our European friends,  
> 1£ = $1.29  
> $5,000 divided by $1.29 = (roughly) 3,876£  
> AKA,  
> 5£ in 1423 A.D. = 3,876£ in 2017 A.D.
> 
> *Which in Medieval Europe was a shit ton of money! We do research BIATCH! Carlos REALLY want dat booty! Also if I made a mistake on the math, please let me know! No. Really. I SUCK at math. =_=
> 
> 2nd Side Note: José is an OC. He is actually Puerto Rico. He isn’t officially in the series (that we’ve found anyway) and we needed to have someone play the “LeFou” character. We basically went, “What’s a South American country we can pilfer?”. Puerto Rico was the first country that popped into our heads. Please, just roll with it. As far as his personality goes, we’re doing what works best for the story. There isn’t anything official to go off of. *shrugs*


	16. Chapter #14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys! Challenged here! I was a good girl and worked really hard during my free moments to write. So here, have an update! *thrusts both fists in the air* YAH!

Gil rubbed the space between his eyes and let out a long breath.

_Never Again. I am never traveling with this walking word vomit apparition ever again._

He’d thought his Birdie was the worst case of danger-prone possible. Turns out his twin beat him by at least a mile. The dummkopf put everything Matthew had ever done to shame. Not because he went into the Dark Wood injured and without food.

Oh no.

**He. Wouldn’t. Shut. Up.**

Gil was not a particularly violent person. Certain circumstances had forced his hand in the past, but usually he avoided the use of such force.

_I’d make an exception if it’d make him stop talking._

With the blindfold firmly in place, the twin’s trap flapped endlessly through the whole journey. Yap, yap, yap, yap, yap…….. Over anything and everything.

“Where’re we headin’?”

“What’s Mattie been up to?”

“Why’re we underground?”

“Why’d you walk me into the wall? The dirt here tastes nasty!”

It never stopped. Stupid, pointless chatter without end. It was literally as if Gil had picked up a fully grown two year old. Who, what, when, where, why, and how constantly thrown his way. Gil nearly took him back three separate times before they made it to the end of the tunnel.

Breathing a shuddering sigh of relief, he set his packages down just inside and to the side of the tunnels’ secret opening. Asking Alfred to stand still for a minute, he cleared the debris off the opening and led him out of the tunnel.

He walked him around the corner, behind a few more trees. “Stay here for a moment. Don’t take the blindfold off.”

Gil trotted back to the opening, pulled out the goods, and covered up the opening once more. While he put the last pieces in place, Alfred called out from the other side of the trees.

“Are we here?”

“Yes. Matthew’s in the clearing up ahead.” Gil gathered up his stuffs and walked leisurely back to the chatterbox on contraceptives. “Now, there are a few rules you need to follow while you are here. Matthew and I are Alpha’s to a wolf pack. That means-!”

Gil rounded the last tree to see……the torn slip of his shirt sleeve on the ground. The blindfold, but no Alfred.

_Where?-!_

**“Mattie! Mattie! Where are you?! Your Brother the Hero is here! Mattie!”**

Alfred’s cries for his brother stuck out in the quiet of the forest.

From the direction of the clearing. Right in the middle of the wolf’s den.

_Mein Gott. It’s ficken genetic._

*******

 

Alfred heard the crunch of brush under the Beast’s feet as he walked behind him and back the way they’d come.

_Where they there? Where’s Mattie?_

“Are we here?”

“Yes. Matthew’s in the clearing up ahead.” He continued talking after that, but Alfred didn’t listen to any of it. Alfred pulled the make-shift blindfold off and sprinted forward.

Moments later he ran into the middle of the clearing. Spinning in place, searching for his brother. Arms outstretched in welcome.

**“Mattie! Mattie! Where are you?! Your Brother the Hero it here! Mattie!”**

He only stopped shouting for his brother when the growls and snarls bled through his own cries.

Pausing mid-spin, he paid attention to his surrounding for the first time since arriving.

He was trapped in place by a wolf pack. The animals encircled him on all sides and they were slowly closing in on their prey.

_My sword!_

Alfred reached down to its’ strap at his side to feel….nothing. Looking down, he remembered.

The demon had taken it when he’d blind-folded him.

_I won’t need it, my ass!_

Trembling in place, Alfred felt the full weight of his dire situation.

Switching his feet and arms into a defensive position, he waited for the wolves to charge him en masse.

**“Ggggrrrrraaaaawwwww! Rrrrraaaawwwww! Rrrrraaaawwww! Rrrraaawwww!”**

Alfred froze and slowly looked over his shoulder, toward the direction of the sound. Turning around fully, he dropped promptly on his ass; weak with dread and despair.

The form of a giant white bear came barreling toward him from around the side of the previously unnoticed cabin.

Alfred didn’t hear the epic squeal erupting from his throat as the bear charged in and rose up on hind legs above him. Coming down with him underneath it, the bear continued to roar. Breaking his ear-drums from above.

A strange rasping sound attempting an authoritative growl and snarl backed up the great roar of the white behemoth.

Alfred continued to squeal, folding up into the fetal position as his heart nearly stopped in his chest.

“Al!”

“Al!”

“Al!”

“Alfred!”

“Alfred!”

“Alfred!”

**“ALFRED MY FUCKING HERO!!!!!!”**

Alfred’s squeal ended at a dead stop. Turning his head to the side, tears streaming down his face, he looked up to see his brother Mattie’s upturned frown.

**Hanging over the side of the bear.**

“Are you done?”

Alfred ran a hand under both eyes, wiping away the tears and dirt stinging them. “Mattie? Wh-what are you….?”

“That’s my line. _Big_ brother.”

Matthew pulled up, once again sitting up atop the white monstrosity.

The bear backed up and away from Alfred. The young page sat up from his spot on the ground. His eyes widened in disbelief; looking up at his younger brother. His Mattie, sitting astride a _fucking bear_ with hands on hips and eyebrow raised in indignation.

Every bit the queen of monsters upon his throne.

Alfred couldn’t tear his gaze away from the stranger his brother had become.

“Mattie…….wh-what…..” Alfred struggled to put words together. “What the hell happened to my little brother?!?!”

**“That would be me.”**

Both brothers looked up toward the edge of the clearing. A **very** put off red-eyed demon strode purposely toward them; the wolf-pack drawing back and parting in his wake.

“You!”

The bear ran forward to meet the Beast head on.

“Mattie! Don’t-!”

Matthew threw himself off the side of the bear and directly into the arms of the Beast. He caught Matthew with little effort and clutched the blonde to himself, arms around the waist, as he wiggled down the front of the Beast’s body.

_Did he just grope my brother’s ass?!?!?!_

Matthew snaked his arms around the Beast. Though his embrace was loose and comfortable, he continued to berate him vocally. “This is the errand you had to run? Are you insane?!?! What the hell where you even thinking bringing Al here? I mean I’m happy to see him, but-!”

“Birdie! Calm down.”

Matthew stopped his short-lived verbal tirade. The Beast lifted a single hand and cupped his face, trailing his thumb lovingly over Matthew’s cheek. “I saw him in town and all I could do was picture the smile on your face when you’d see him again. Your happiness is worth a lot of risk to me. And…….”

His eyes grew pained and regretful. “I wanted to give you a chance to say goodbye.”

Matthew’s face pinched up in pain that slowly gave way to understanding and gratitude.

In a voice so quiet only his Alpha could hear, he uttered, “Thank you, Gil.”

Alfred watched in stupefied horror from his prone position on the ground, as his brother and the Demon of the Dark Wood drew each other into a sensual and tender kiss.

And promptly shat a huge brick.

 

***

 

 

Gil watched on with Gilbird from his spot atop the cabin’s roof. A warm glow in his chest. He’d seen a new side of his Birdie as he’d played and romped with his twin all afternoon.

He’d made the right decision in bringing Alfred here. The smile he’d imagined in his head was nothing in comparison to the one now gracing his beloveds’ lips. He was so carefree with Alfred. So jovial. Gil hoped to one day put that same expression on his face himself.

 _Though I certainly don’t mind the coy glances and lustful stares he gives me now._ Gil mentally preened and patted himself on the back.

After the initial disaster Alfred’s arrival had brought, both Matthew and Gil had both “officially” introduced him into the pack. Gil snickered at the thought. His Birdie’s twin had no idea why all the male pack members had constantly tried to sniff his ass and mate him all afternoon.

_Ah, revenge is sweet._

And besides, it wasn’t his fault the dummkopt had refused to lie down and present his belly to both Alphas. It wasn’t his fault Alfred had stuffed his face with enough meat and preserves to last most a week in the span of a few hours; a typical behavior during lupine pre-heat. And it most certainly wasn’t his fault Matthew’s brother smelled like sweat and…..other bodily fluids. Mainly the few drops of urine smeared on the front of his trousers.

_Okay. Maybe that last one was **slightly** my fault. _

Without showing the pack he was not a rival or threat, they would have killed him outright. Not needing the headache **that** would have caused, Gil had done the only thing he could in the situation. He’d pinned the brother to the ground on all fours, wrestled over him from behind, and given him a quick nip on the back of the neck. Effectively faking a mating with the blonde.

At least as convincingly as he could stomach.

Matthew had caught on and mouthed his brothers’ neck quickly to assert his dominance over Alfred to the group.

As a result of the “marking”, he’d been introduced into the pack as a young female in heat. And without either Alpha fighting off any frisky suiters, his ass had been free game.

Gil grinned as Alfred tried to pry a humping wolf off his leg for the hundredth time and laid back against the roof to bask in the late afternoon sun. Matthew offered his brother no help. His tinkling laughter flaming the warmth already in Gil’s chest.

As he laid back a slight breeze blew in from the south, tickling his nose with a familiar scent. He eyes blew wide and he sat up quickly; dumping a squawking Gilbird off his lap in his haste to get off the roof.

Running over to the twins, he grabbed Matthew up, holding him to his side and unceremoniously hauled Alfred by the back of his shirt; rushing them both into the cabin.

“What’s wrong? Hey! Where’s the fire?”

Gil dropped both brothers by the door, Matthew more gently of course. He pulled the cot off the trap door and lifted the hinged wood concealing the tunnel before answering.

“Birdie. I smell horses and leather heading this way. Normally I wouldn’t think anything of it, hunters and merchants chance the Dark Wood all the time. But Birdie…..” He walked over to Matthew and framed his face with both hands. “I smelled metal and blood too. Human Blood. Weapons. Hunters and merchants don’t carry those. I think someone has come looking for us.”

Matthew’s eyes widened in fear. “What’re you going to do? What do _we_ do?!”

“Sshh.” Gil pressed a quick, gentle kiss to Matthew’s lips. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I need you both to get into the tunnel and wait. I’ll go take a look at the situation and come back. Can you do that?”

Matthew’s lips pressed into a hard line. “I don’t like this, Gil.”

“I don’t either. But right now it’s the best option we have. And besides….” He pointedly directed his eyes toward Alfred and back. “Do you really thing your brother should be left alone?”

They both turned their heads to look at Alfred. He was standing over the open trap-door attempting to look down into the opening; convinced there where secret treasures down below.

“Mattie! Mattie! Look! Look! It’s a secret tunnel! Are there any more? I mean, besides the one we took to get here. It’s a labyrinth! Are monsters and stuff down there too-!”

As if on que, his excited jumping about caused him to lose his balance on the edge of the opening…..and fall in.

“Hey….Matti- **ah-!”**

**…**

**…**

**…**

***thud***

**“OOOOOWWWW!!!!”**

 They both turned their heads back toward each other and Matthew flicked his hand toward the hole dismissively. “He’s fine.”

Gil grinned and leaned in to press their foreheads together; keeping their eyes connected. “I promise to come back the moment I’m sure it’s safe. But just in case, if I am not back by sunset, I want you and Alfred to follow the tunnel. Do you remember the way to the ruins?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Go to the ruins and stay there. If I don’t come for you in three days’ time, send Alfred back to his master and head north for the Krasnny border. Kuma and the wolves will have found you by then. They will protect you.”

Gil backed Matthew up the opening as he spoke, then stopped at the edge. Gripping his arms, Gil slowly lowered Matthew down into the hole; dropping him softly to the bottom.

He moved to close the trap door over them.

“Gil!”

He paused and looked down into Matthew’s worried eyes.

“Be careful. I won’t let you off easy if you keep me waiting.”

Crimson orbs swimming with both affection and determination, Gil brew Matthew a kiss and shut them in darkness.

 

*******

 

Fritz stiffened, trying to stop the shivering that crept up his spine like a wandering centipede.

_I’d hoped to never see this accursed place ever again._

Boughs on the trees around him shifted in the fading light; testing his nervous patience.

He felt them. Phantom Bartian eyes once more staring him down from their hidden spots in the trees. Watching his black soul wade through the foul, blood-soaked ocean that was his guilt.

The place of his nightmares. The setting of his decent into hell.

**_“Spare him! Spare my son!” *sob* “He’s just a child!”_ **

**_“M-mama?” “Mama, why are you sleeping?” “I’m hungry.”_ **

**_“I’ll kill you!” “Sie Ficken Gegend Schwein!” “I’ll kill you for this!”_ **

Fritz pinched the bridge of his nose and willed the voices to be quiet. His other hand clutched a hidden dagger under some packs across his lap.

_I’m sorry……..I was only following orders…….I didn’t want to…….So sorry._

In his youth, he’d naively thought time would lessen their volume. At fifty-three years, he now knew the volume only grew. Both in sound and quantity.

The things his duty required of him. The destruction he’d wrought. The good he’d done, too. They all weighed on his body. They all crushed his mind.

Soon they would obliterate his spirit altogether.

_It’s hysterical. My livelihood depends on violence.  On the efficient letting of innocent and guilty blood alike……and I hate it. I hate it with every fiber of my being._

As he steered the horses laden with equipment and weapons deeper into the Dark Woods, his memories scraped at the walls of his consciousness.

He leaned his head back as the ache in his skull grew worse. The hood and cowl around his shoulders shifted to the side of his face; obscuring even more of his face from view with the angle.

His eyes opened and gazed upwards into the boiling red of a Bartian soul hidden within the pine needles. The familiar features cloaked in shadow and narrowed in predictable hatred and accusation of its quarry.

 

**_“Protect him, Fritz. Just keep him safe.”_ **

****

Fritz’s eyes widened as the apparition moved. _That’s impossible._ “……Addy?”

The figure growled low in the back of its throat before dropping from its perch in the tree. The weight of the being slammed into Fritz. The sudden connection with the earth dislodged the fabric from his face and knocked the air from his lungs.

The creature pinned his chest to the ground with a knee. Fritz drew the dagger still clutched in his hand up, preparing to slice his attacker across their gut.

The stranger pulled a threatening hand above his head to strike, but paused at the height of his draw-back.

Fritz leaned up to force the edge of the blade against its stomach-!”

“…. _Old man_?”

Fritz froze in surprise and wonder. Only one person in this world would dare refer to him as such to his face.

Eyes crinkled with overjoyed strain, Fritz dropped the dagger between them and reached up to remove the hood from the one above him. His breath caught in his throat as his suspicions were confirmed.

What grinned back at him, was the laughing face of his revenant child.

“Mein Gott……Gilbert. You **are** alive.”

 

*******

Matthew paced back and forth between the walls of the tunnel. If he sat, it would only make it worse and he was barely holding onto his self-control as it was.

_Where is he? It’s been hours, he should be back by now!_

“Mattie. I still say we ditch the digs…….pun intended.”

Matthew stopped his steady propulsion to look down and glare at his brother. “We **are not** leaving. Gil said he would be back soon. The deadline is at sunset and I **am not** abandoning this post until either he comes back or we run out of time!”

Alfred huffed a breath and crossed his arms over his chest from his sitting position on the floor. “We can’t tell when sunset is. We’re underground, Mattie! He’s been gone long enough! I say we cut our losses and follow the tunnel out.”

Matthew stopped his pacing and turned to speak to the spot the voice was coming from. “I am not leaving him behind, Al. I-I can’t.”

Alfred remained silent for long moments. When he spoke, his voice had a hard line to it. “You…..this isn’t a fling is it? You care about him. Are…..are you in love with him?”

Matthew’s eyes widened. He honestly hadn’t thought of that. True he cared for him. Matthew needed Gil and Gil needed him, but he honestly hadn’t thought of it as anything more.

Sure they were romantically involved…..and lived together……and had sex.

He ignored Alfred’s pointed stare across the dark tunnel; completely lost and distracted by his own thoughts. _That is, once I finally managed to get past his virgin sensibilities._  

Matthew snorted and rolled his eyes at his own thoughts.

“I don’t like him, Mattie. He’s a Beast. You could do better.”

Matthew’s fond musings cut off at the sharp slice of those words. He walked toward the voice. As he drew closer he could just make out the shadow of his brother’s body in the dark.

“I mean, come on! He’s a hermit in the middle of the Dark Wood. You’re probably the first human he’s seen in years. Do you really think he’s attracted to you specifically? He’s probably riddled with a dozen different plagues from fucking the local wildlife.”

The anger of the Alpha taking over his emotions, Matthew crouched over his twin. Slamming both hands into the wall over his shoulders, he bore down on Alfred with his aggression.

 **“You will never call him that ever again. He might be damaged, but he is a man of the highest caliber. He’s _human_ , Alfred. He’s allowed to be imperfect.” **A sly curve formed over Matthew’s snarl as he pictured his man’s _many_ assets. **“Even if he comes damn close.”**

Alfred stayed silent, staring at the unfamiliar expression on his twin’s face. The challenging spark freshly born in his eyes. This was not his brother. This was someone alien to the person he’d grown up with.

Both young men broke away from the wall and stood at a scraping sound coming from above.  

They both looked up and blinked as a bright square opening appeared from above in the darkness.

Gil’s head popped into view above the opening. His crimson soaked eyes shiny and happy. “I’m back, Birdie. Did you miss me?”

“Gil!”

Matthew rushed below, keeping his eyes locked on the head blocking out the light. “You’re back! What took you so long? You’ve been gone for hours! Did something happen?”

He squinted harder at Gil’s expression, swiveling his head at different angles, looking for injuries. “You **look** fine.”

Gil chuckled. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Actually something did happen. Birdie…..” He looked to the side, crooking his fingers for something to come forward. “There’s someone I’d like you to-!”

“Yo! Grinning fool from above! Can we get out now? It’s cold and dark down here!”

“Is that the voice of my wayward page, I hear? It certainly sounds like his voice. The whining timbre is _just_ right.”

Another head appeared in the opening. One Matthew didn’t recognize.

The stranger appeared to be older, though not elderly. _Fifties maybe?_ Shoulder length, pale blonde almost white hair fell off his shoulder from its tie at the back of his neck to drape down into the tunnel below. Bright crystalline blue eyes sparkled from their irritated set in his face. A perfect accompaniment to the laugh lines edged deeply into his countenance.

“Alfred.” His voice suddenly turned deadly and serious. The voice of a commander; someone used to making hard decisions and following through with them. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in? Any other officer would have marked you as a deserter. You abandoned your post. You left your commanding officer-!”

“But I sent Henry with a note! Didn’t you get it?”

“ _Ooooohhhhhh_!” The man riffled at his side until he brought out a mangled and dirty scrap of paper. His voice marinating in sarcasm and sass. “You mean this unbelievable atrocity of penmanship? Mein Gott. Seriously, Alfred? I thought you were making progress in your lessons. It looks like a chicken scratched up a few sentences on piece of paper dropped in the yard. And your grammar!”

He cleared his throat and read aloud for the others to hear. “Dear Master, I’m taking off with this Beast guy. He lives in the Dark Wood. The one the locals tell stories of. Dude, has the creepiest eyes. It’s like the color bled out of them. Literally. Plus, he’s a total pervert. Humped me against a tree when I was peeing. Anyway, he says he has Mattie at his place, so I’m gonna go see my brother. Not sure when I’ll be back. Take care of my horse!”

He lowered the paper and looked over to Gil then Matthew. “Sincerely, Future Knight and Hero Alfred.”

His stare turned baleful as switched his gaze to his charge. “I’m not even going to dignify this monstrosity by correcting your spelling errors.”

Gil motioned to Matthew and hauled him up as the stranger continued to talk down to Alfred. To Matthew’s great surprise, the man was _very_ short. Just over five feet.

“What do you have to say for yourself, Alfred?”

Alfred gazed up at him with hurt and dopey confusion. “I don’t understand. I left a note. What did I do wrong?”

The man pinched the bridge of his nose and held his breath. After a few moments, he let it out and opened his angry eyes on Alfred. “You are a very big disappointment, Alfred. You are a now a member of his Majesties Army. That means you cannot leave and abandon your position, **under any circumstances** , unless given orders to do so by your commanding officer.”

The stranger stood bringing the trapdoor up with him. “The only reason you are not wanted for desertion this very moment is because **I** am your commanding officer. Not only did you unwittingly desert your post and knight training, you fled into the Dark Wood. One of the most dangerous territories in all the Kingdoms. Endangering not only yourself, but whomever came after you.”

“But Master, I-!”

**“I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT!!!!”**

He took another breath in. The air shuddering his whole torso with the force of its escape. “I agreed to take you on as my apprentice. My page, squire, and one day knight. Even if it kills me, a highly possible scenario, I’m going to uphold my end and make you an acceptable soldier. Stay in that pit until I’ve decided on an acceptable penance for the schiesse you pulled today.”

He dropped the edge of the trapdoor, letting it slam shut on Alfred’s’ face by its hinges. Muffling his indignant grumblings to the people above.

“Was I ever that troublesome?”

The man rolled his eyes and grinned affectionately at Gil. “Troublesome? Yes. But a complete epidemic waiting to happen? No.”

He scratched the back of his head in weariness. “I must have been drunk when I agreed to take him on.”

“You were.”

Gil and the stranger turned wide eyes on Matthew at his comment.

Gil stepped up behind Matthew, wrapping his arms around the younger man’s middle and trapping his head underneath his chin; nuzzling his hair. “You’ve met Fritz?”

Matthew cocked his head to the side. “Not exactly. I was in the stands at the tournament last summer in our village.” He looked at Fritz sheepishly. “General Frederick was judging the event.”

The man eyed their skin-ship with a small and grateful, but surprised smile. He stepped forward and extended his hand to Matthew, who shook it. “Feldmarschall General Frederick Hohenzollern of his Majesties Army. You must be Matthew. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He looked up to Gil. “From both of them.”

His gaze returned to Matthew and he dropped his hand. “And please, call me Fritz.”

 

 

***

 

 

Matthew squatted in front of the fireplace, stirring their supper and rolling his eyes at the loud growls drifting through the floor from Alfred’s stomach. He really shouldn’t be surprised. Venison stew _was_ Alfred’s favorite. Not even the buffer of the floor could stop that stomach.

Gil and Fritz sat in a corner of the room playing a make-shift game of chess drawn in the dirt floor.

“Fritz. Can you let him out now? I’m not trying to tell you how to discipline your subordinate. After all, I was once in his place. But that noise he’s making is really distracting me from the game.”

Fritz lifted his eyes up from the dirt board. Eyebrow raised he replied, “Do you really think his jabbering once he’s up here will be an improvement?”

“I’m almost finished with the food. That should keep his mouth busy enough.” Matthew commented from across the room.

“And besides,” He turned to look at the two. “Venison stew is his favorite. The only reason he’s as quiet as he is now is because he knows he’s in time-out.”

Both men shared a glance.

“Fine.” Fritz relented. “Gil, please fetch him for supper.”

Fritz moved toward Matthew, looking over his shoulder to inspect the food. Gil moved the cot out of the way and opened the trap door. Kneeling at its edge he lowered his torso through the opening and reached for Alfred with both hands.

The twin, in his infinite wisdom, jumped up. Instead of grasping the arms offered to him, wrapped his own around Gil’s shoulder blades. Nearly hauling the other into the tunnel with him.

**“What the fick are you doing dummkopf?!?!”**

“Food! I smell food! It’s up there and I’m gonna get it!”

“Mein Gott, you’re stupid.”

Gil braced his knees farther apart and lifting at the waist, slowly curled up. Bringing the wriggling pain up with him.

As he did, his shirt fell forward on his back, exposing the markings of his brand to Alfred.

The blondes’ eyes widened in recognition immediately, but he said nothing. He might be dumb, but he knew better than to annoy a criminal of _this_ caliber. He’d wait until he had a chance to speak to his Master in private.

After supper, the four stepped outside for some air.

Gil cocked his head, on edge and alert. Matthew noticed the change as well.

 The pack was acting defensively. All were backed up to protect their “den”. Hackles slightly raised and lips pulled back, at the ready. Every member had their eyes leveled on the trees surrounding them.

In the direction of the village.

“Gil.”

“I know, Birdie.”

Gil looked to Fritz. “Fritz, you and Alfred stay in the cabin. Don’t try to walk through the wolf’s parameter.”

He started walking forward toward the tree line the pack had their eyes fixed on. “Birdie, get on Kuma and stay there.”

Gil whistled for Gilbird and they both disappeared into the tree line. A few minutes later, Matthew could just make out the white of his hair from atop the tallest tree in the grove. The thatch of ashen locks disappeared in the pitch of the Dark Wood, only to have their owner return to the light of the bonfire shortly after.

“Gil? What’s going on?”

Gil trotted up to Kuma to look up at Matthew and grasp his hand. “Something’s going on in the village. I need to go check it out.”

He looked to Fritz and Alfred standing in the doorway of the cabin, then back to Matthew. “I don’t want to leave you alone at night, but I don’t think this can wait. I need you as the Alpha Female of this pack to stay and make sure they don’t eat your brother.”

Matthew looked back at Alfred who, completely misreading the situation, was currently mining the interior of his nose for gold.

“Are you so sure that would be a bad thing?” He drawled.

Gil chuckled and squeezed his hand. “You would still miss him. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Stay safe.”

Brining Matthew’s hand to his lips, he placed a fleeting kiss along his knuckles before dropping it to lope off in the direction of the secret tunnel leading toward the village.

Once he was out of sight, Matthew turned Kuma and walked him up to the open doorway. “Gil said something is going on in the village. He’s going to go scout out the situation.”

Alfred stood straight and walked over to Matthew. Arms outstretched, intent on pulling him from the bear’s back. “Good! While he’s gone we’ll escape!”

Kuma moved away from the approaching twin and gave a low growl; halting Alfred’s progress toward his brother. Matthew was not happy.

“What the hell, Al! Are you kidding me?!?! I just convinced Gil to let me stay with him and you want me to _**escape**_?!?!?” He shook his head at his brother. “I don’t know what it is you have against Gil, but it needs to stop. **NOW. ALFRED.** ”

“What do I have against him? How about the fact that he’s the lowest type of scum! He’s **BRANDED** , Mattie! He’s a deserter! He abandoned the army and his people. As far as I’m concerned, he has no soul. He’s not even **HUMAN**.”

Alfred’s face scrunched up with utter disgust as he spat out the last of his tirade. “He’s a Beast.”

Silently and without warning, Fritz flew up behind Alfred, spun him around, and open-handedly bitch-slapped him across his face.

The crack echoed so loud and so hard, that even Kuma and the wolves shrunk back from the pair.

Fritz’s voice was cold. The mere sound layered a chill on the air itself. “Alfred. I have been disappointed by you a lot as my student. But never once have I truly regretted taking you on as my apprentice. What you said just now has me questioning whether you are capable of ever being a just knight.”

The look on Alfred’s face would have been comical. If the hurt and confusion didn’t run so deeply through his expression. The young man looked singularly devastated. All his hopes and dreams crushed in one fell swoop.

And he didn’t know why.

“M-Master. I-I don’t understand. Why?-!”

“What is the first thing I taught you as my apprentice?”

Alfred removed one hand from his damaged cheek and moved it to scratch his head dumbly. “Th-that I am responsible for those who cannot defend themselves. Those that are too weak or under prejudice.”

Fritz crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. “Correct. And what did you just do here?”

Alfred became even more confused. “But how is he weak? He’s the Beast of the Dark Wood!?!?”

Fritz cocked his head and lifted an eyebrow. “You are prejudiced toward him, Alfred.”

“He’s a criminal!” Alfred paused before uttering his final argument. “He wears the brand of a Fodder Slave.”

Matthew drew up at the term. Alfred said it with such distain. _A what?_

“It doesn’t matter.” Fritz uncrossed his arms and placed them at his hips. “You condemn him, because you assume he is less than human based on a label. You do not know him. You do not know his circumstances. And you do not know **_why_** he did what he did. You do not have the right to judge him. As a knight or as a fellow man.”

Fritz closed his eyes and took in a long breath; pinching his nose. “How can you ever distribute justice if you let prejudice and judgement cloud your vision? Alfred. You need to learn to look at the big picture. Search out every angle. Uncover the truth. You will one day control the fate of those around you. Remember that.”

Alfred looked at his feet in shame. His face red with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Master.”

Fritz removed his hand from his nose and stared his student down. “That’s not enough, Alfred. You have absolutely no idea who he is.” His eyes grew sad. “What he’s endured to make him this way.”

“But you do.”

Both master and student turned to look at Matthew.

“You know his story.”

Fritz narrowed his eyes at Matthew. Looking him up and down carefully. Inspecting his soul. “You care for Gil, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Matthew answered without hesitation.

“He obviously cares for you a great deal. I have to admit, I am quite surprised by the level of affection he has for you.”

Fritz paused. “What are your intentions toward him?”

Matthew drew back and thought about it carefully. _How do I word this?_ “He needs me. And…I need him. I don’t care about who he is or what he’s had to do to survive. He is who he is.”

He met Fritz’s gaze and held it. “I won’t let him suffer his nightmares alone.”

His focus on Matthew grew intense. Daring him to back down or look away. Scrutinizing his integrity. Gaging the truth in his words. “You won’t abandon him, will you?”

Matthew leaned over Kuma’s shoulders and grinned at Fritz. “In case you haven’t noticed,” He indicated to the wolves around them with his eyes. “Not even wild dogs have managed to drag me away.”

Fritz threw back his head and laughed. “Haha! Good! Gil’s going to need someone with spunk to keep him in line!”

Once he’d regained his composure he gave Matthew a weary look. “He hasn’t told you, has he?”

Matthew shook his head.

“I figured as much. Knowing him, he probably thinks it’s safer to keep you in the dark. But….” He paused. “If you are going to stay by his side, you need to know exactly what you are dealing with.”

Fritz turned and strode toward the bonfire. Over his shoulder he threw back, “Come, the bonfire is the perfect setting for a ghost story.”

 

***

 

Gil frowned in confusion as he crept low in the brush of the tree-line. There were far too many people within the village. Almost three times its normal number.

He could smell them. All of them.

_Where the workers called in from the field?_

With as much stealth as he possessed, he made his way along the outer building and scaled the side of the church. Taking up a position in the rafters of the steeple, he looked down over the villagers gathered in the square below. Torches illuminating the fielding tools still clutched in their hands.

_Gott I hate crowds._

“Why did it take so long, José? Do you think my time is so cheap, I can spend it frivolously?”

Gil looked toward the sound of the voices. They were coming through the door connecting the steeple to the church below. Shifting backwards, he hid himself more deeply in the shadows.

“I’m sorry, my lord. Most of them were working the fields when the summons came out. Messengers had to be sent to bring them in.”

Sheriff Machado and another man came through the door and walked to the edge of the steeple overlooking the square.

“I don’t care what your excuse is. When I give an order, I expect it to be done quickly.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“You’re lucky I have something a lot more…..interesting to occupying my mind.”

The Sheriff put his fingers to his mouth and let out a shrill, high pitched whistle to gather the mobs’ attention. Gil barely managed to stop the whine in his throat as he cringed from the sound.

The man named José lifted a torch at his side, casting the Sheriff’s face in light for the villagers to see.

The crowd below quieted and looked to the Sheriff.

The foul man paused before addressing the people below him. “Everyone! As your Sheriff, I have gathered you in the hopes of enlisting your help. A great danger to our safety has been brought to my attention and I cannot stop it on my own.”

Some of the villagers started murmuring amongst themselves. Even more shouted questions at the Sheriff. He lifted his hand for silence and continued. “The Beast of the Dark Wood is hunting the people of this village.”

An audible gasp went up from the crowd. Panic broke out and everyone started yelling.

**“QUIET!!!”**

At the Sheriff’s order, the crowd once again grew quiet.

“The Beast of the Dark Wood is no longer happy with feasting on our fear! Now it seeks to consume our children. He has already taken Alfred and his brother!”

The murmurs started again. Many crying out at the news of Alfred. Some questioning the existence of the brother.

Gil rolled his eyes. _Seriously? How self-absorbed do you people have to be to not notice someone’s existence?_

The Sheriff continued addressing the crowd. “We can no longer afford to let this creature live. He has already taken two of our own. How many more will we let him devour? How many sons? How many daughters? I need ever able man to join me on a hunt for the creature. **Who’s with me?!?!** ”

A great roar of agreement went up from the crowd and continued as the Sheriff turned to José.

“Spread the word. We leave at first light. Everyone is to bring a weapon or field tool of some sort. Make sure everyone knows the goal is to capture him, not kill him. Not at first anyway. He knows were Matthew and Alfred are. If I _ask him nicely_ , he’ll tell me where they are.”

He looked back over the crowd for a moment before turning and walking to the door. “Sometimes it boggles my mind how simple these sheep are.”

The men made their way out as the mob below continued with their call to arms.

In their frenzy for blood, none of the villages noticed a figure clad in the pelt of a black wolf slip from the steeple and melt into the pitch of the Dark Wood.

 

*******

 

** Russian Translations: **

  1. Krasnny = Red



** German Translations: **

  1. Dummkopf = Idiot
  2. Mein = My/Mine
  3. Fick(en) = Fuck(ing)
  4. Schiesse = Shit
  5. Gott = God
  6. Schwein = Pig
  7. Gegend = Land/Territory
  8. Sie = You



*Feldmarschall = Top general within the Prussian and German army. Basically he controls the entire army under the king and all the other Generals report to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop! Whoop! Alright guys, another chapter done! And you guys got to meet Fritz! He is modeled after King Frederick II (Frederick the Great) of Prussia. His reign lasted from 1740-1786. Fritz is (briefly) featured in the original Hetalia manga’s and anime series. For the most part his personality is OC, but we did our research and tried to base his personality off of the actual historical figure. Also, there is no historical record of exactly how tall he was, so we used what would be realistic for the time period. *We hope you love him as much as we do. (^^)
> 
> Side Note: In case anyone is unfamiliar with the expression “shit a brick”. It essentially means “to become very frightened, worried, angry, upset, surprised, etc.”  
> \- “shat” is the past tense for “shit”. 
> 
> *Things are still crazy on this end, but as anticipated Talent is harassing *cough*cough* “reminding me”, you guys are eagerly awaiting updates.  
> =_= No, seriously guys. One day she literally sat me in a corner and wouldn’t let me up until I’d written at least two paragraphs. *eye roll*  
> Bottom line: I will try to keep up with the updates. I know you guys appreciate them.  
> *If you like what you’re reading, let us know in the comments/review section! It’s been a while since we’ve talked with y’all and they fuel our updates. (AKA my motivation and confidence) *thumbs up*


	17. Chapter #15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right guys! We’re back, and we’re coming at ‘cha with some backstory! Enjoy!

 

***

 

Three figures sat gathered around the fire. The shadows surrounding them, lending a smokescreen to the trepidation in their hearts.

 One leaning up against the stomach of the behemoth bear curled around him.

The second with his legs crossed under him. His head bowed from shame, embarrassment, and hurt.

The third sat with one knee bent up, his hand and chin resting there. Staring into the flames of the bonfire. Gathering his thoughts. Reliving old memories.

“Who is he Fritz?”

The third figure started at the question. His eyes connected with Matthew’s through the flames, before he rubbed them and took a long breath.

“His name is Gilbert Beilschmidt. First Prince of the Kingdom of Gegend and previous heir to the royal throne.”

Both twins sat in stunned silence. Matthew didn’t even breathe. His mind went completely blank.

Alfred regained his voice first. **“WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE’S A PRINCE?!?!”**

Fritz threw an annoyed glance Alfred’s way. “Did I tell you, you may speak?”

Alfred snapped his mouth shut and huffed. Clearly wanting to ask a million questions.

Matthew had trouble speaking. Slowly, gradually the gears started turning in his brain once more and the pieces of his scattered thoughts started forming questions.  

_A prince?!?! Gil is a fucking Prince?!?! H-how is that even possible?......_

“Matthew?”

Matthew shook his head and looked up at Fritz. “I-I knew he was from a noble family, b-but…..a prince?”

Fritz narrowed his eyes at Matthew. “How did you know he was a member of the gentry?”

Matthew ran a hand through his hair. “He can read and write. If that wasn’t enough of a give-away, he also speaks like a noble. He sounds like one when he talks, not like me and Alfred. Also he’s…..well, he’s circumcised. It’s not very hard to connect the dots.”

Fritz’s eyes widened at the last admission and he threw back his head in laughter. “Hahaha! Yes! You two are indeed **-** ,” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “………… **very** close!”

Alfred looked like he wanted to explode, but a quick pointed look from Fritz kept his mouth shut.

The General’s mirth died a quick death and his look turned serious. “Do you understand now why he didn’t tell you?”

Matthew shook his head. “I don’t get it. If he’s a Prince, why would he be out here? And why is Al so worked up about the mark on his back?”

“The brand on his back is the mark of a Fodder Slave. A deserter to the army and a traitor.”

He continued to shake his head; not satisfied with Fritz’s answer. “I don’t understand what that means. Even if he did run away in battle, he’s a prince. Shouldn’t he get a free pass or something?”

Fritz was silent for a long moment. “I suppose I should start from the beginning.”

He scratched his chin pondering where to begin and let out a heavy breath. “This is going to take a while. Please be patient, it is important you understand everything in the order it happened.”

Fritz sat up straighter and leaned back against the log behind him. Closing his eyes, he drew in a deep breath, reopened his heavy lids, and began his story.

“Gilbert’s grandfather, the previous King Wilhelm, was not a pleasant being. I would go so far as to not call him a _king_ at all. In reality, he was nothing more than a Conquering Warlord. In all my years of service, I have never met another being so intent on claiming any and all territory as rightfully his. The man had zero control of his own narcissism and greed. Before his reign, the Kingdom of Gegend was maybe one fourth of what it is today. He laid siege to all unclaimed territories between the Kingdoms of Krassny and Papillon before making them a part of his holdings. That is, until he set his eyes on the Dark Wood.”

Fritz grinned ruefully, looking up toward the dark sky and shaking his head. A cloud of memories settling over his own eyes. “I assume you’ve seen Gilbert….melt into the shadows, yes?”

He looked pointedly at Matthew for verification. Matthew nodded once.

“Imagine marching into these trees, searching the ground scared out of your mind some wild animal will attack you. You hear a terrible scream from within the shadow of the leaves. You look up and all you see are the bloody eyes of death staring you down from their domain.”

Fritz ran a hand over his own eyes and snickered despondently. “It was on one of my first missions as a young knight. Let me tell you. You don’t know fear until you witness dozens of Bartian warriors stalking you. **Their prey**. Completely helpless to their ambushes. It didn’t matter we outnumbered them by **hundreds**. We didn’t stand a single chance.”

“How could only a few dozen warriors win against hundreds of knights and soldiers?” Matthew asked.

Frtiz snorted. “Can’t hit something you can’t see. They would watch and wait until nightfall. We always knew they were watching us. We could _feel_ it. But it was impossible to tell which branch they hid behind. What space they inhabited. Once it was dark, they would attack. Surround us and pick us off one by one. One would sneak in and drag a single soldier off his horse into the foliage before anyone would know what was happening. This would go on for hours. There was no opportunity to rest, no time to eat. If you stopped moving you died. Even during the day, they would take advantage. All we could do was wonder around the Dark Wood. Lost, hungry, exhausted, and absolutely terrified.”

Fritz shook his head as if that would dislodge the image he’d just described. “I was part of the fourth regiment sent into the Dark Woods. I am also the only soldier to walk back out of these woods alive. No one wins against a Bartian in a fair fight on their own turf.”

Matthew scrunched his eyebrows up in confusion. “Then how did they get wiped out?”

Fritz arched his eyebrows in surprise. “So. He did share with you some?”

Matthew didn’t answer.

After a moment, Fritz continued. “When King Wilhelm realized a frontal assault wouldn’t work, he tried more…….underhanded means of taking what he wanted. We far outnumbered the Bartians and we had superior weapons as well. The King had already formed an Alliance with the leader of Krassny long before this and we surrounded them on all sides. We didn’t have to enter the Dark Wood. We just had to cut off their life-lines. Isolate them. No trade was let in or out for months. Then the order was given to send cattle and other livestock infected with disease into the forest. The woods wildlife either died from the spread of disease or became infected by ingesting the tainted meat. With trade routes lost and no livestock or wild animals to feed themselves, the Bartian’s options became limited.”

“And that’s when the King sent the deal.”

Fritz nodded. “He knew he would lose too many men if he came at them head-on. Even if they were weakened. So he did something no one thought he would. He tried his hand at _negotiating_. He offered a compromise in the form of a political marriage. His only son and heir, to the Bartian Chief’s daughter.”

“Gil’s mother.”

“Yes.” Fritz smiled softly, picturing her in his mind’s eye. “Her name was Adala. She was the most beautiful being I have ever had the honor of knowing. She contained the most honest and empathetic spirit a human could fathom.”

He snorted. “To save her people, she made the deal. Headstrong thing disobeyed her fathers and strode right out of the Dark Wood. Up to the King on top of his horse, flipper her hair over her shoulder, and told him this. “If you’re _that_ desperate for a grandchild, I suppose I could comply.””

Matthew groaned. “Oh, Lord. That sounds like something Gil would do.”

Fritz snickered knowingly.

“But things didn’t get any better.”

Fritz stopped laughing and took on a pained look. “Yes. Things didn’t get better. If anything, everything kept getting worse.”

He shifted his weight a little and began again. “Prince Aldrich, now our current King, had a secret lover. Someone he was totally and utterly dedicated too. To say he **did not** want to marry someone else, would be the understatement of the century. But he did not have the strength to defy the King and married the Bartian girl. He assumed his lover would still remain with him as his “mistress”. He thought wrong. His lover broke things off with him and the prince took it out on his new wife. Adala fled the capitol and took refuge with her people in the Dark Wood. They let her. I was later stationed there as her body-guard. I stayed with her and the Bartian people until roughly nine months later, when I escorted her back to the capitol and she gave birth to Gilbert.”

His eyes twinkled as he looked through the flames at Matthew. “I was at his birth. Few things are stranger than a baby that comes out hissing laughter instead of crying.”

Matthew tried to imagine a baby Gil, covered in birthing fluids and hissing his peculiar laugh. _I’m not sure if I should smile fondly or cringe._

“But what does this have to do with Gil’s brand?”

Fritz waved his hand at Matthew. “I’m getting there. You need to know what happened next, before we get to that.”

He shifted again. “Anyway, Gilbert was born and one of the servants left to tell the King the happy news of his grandson. Only when he got to his bedchamber, the king was dead. Both monarch and dinner tray strewn out across the floor. His evening wine bubbling in his throat. Assassination by poisoning. The entire palace instantly ignited into shear panic and mayhem. The assassin was never caught and the servant who brought him the tray was executed without trial. Apparently he failed to taste-test the food properly.”

“Isn’t that illegal? Wouldn’t the court want to at least make an example of him if he was responsible for the king’s death?” Matthew asked.

Fritz sighed. “I’m afraid politics rarely favors justice. Only victory. And the hastily coronated King Aldrich had other things on his mind. The fate of one servant was of little consequence and someone needed to be punished for the crime. Mere hours after she’d given birth, Adala stole away from the capitol with her newborn son. She fled to the Dark Wood in the confusion surrounding King Wilhelm’s assassination. Officially, she died from complication from the birth and her people revolted. In reality, King Aldrich gave an official order to have the entire Bartian population exterminated for treason. His **first** order as king, actually.”

“What the hell?!?! Did he think they had something to do with the assassination?”

“No. Kidnapping the prince and heir to the royal throne.”

All three men were silent as a heavy air settled between them.

Fritz stared back into the flames. “The operation was a success. And all the Bartians, including Gilbert’s mother were massacred. The prince was retrieved and returned to the capitol.”

“How can that be? Wasn’t it impossible to fight them before?”

Fritz grimaced. “Do you know what gunpowder is Matthew?”

Matthew shook his head.

“It’s a substance, which when ignited, can propel objects great distances with even greater force and velocity than a trebuchet or catapult. The Nihon Kingdom, after years of negotiations, finally agreed to trade it with our Kingdom.” He sneered. “Just in time for the genocide. With this substance, came new weapons. Most importantly, the cannon. The Bartian’s main fighting tactic was hiding within the trees and striking from the shadows. The canon is a weapon capable of ripping through stone, trees, and definitely a person’s body. Can’t hide in the trees if the canons blow right through them. It took only two days to finish the job.”

Fritz cracked his hands and continued. Eager to get through the rest of his tale and be done with it. “Years passed and Gilbert grew within the palace walls. I wouldn’t call it a happy childhood. As the heir, the king had a vested interest in his upbringing. As time went on, our king became more like his father before him. He wasn’t a Warlord in practice, but he’s turned crueler over the years I’ve served him. I’m not surprised, his father’s leadership the only example he has to go off of. Only disappointed. Desperate to keep ahold of all his father had acquired.”

He smiled. “When Gilbert was four years old, the King remarried to a young Gegend noblewoman and apothic witch named Helga. A lovely woman. She treated Gilbert as if he was her own son. A year after their marriage she gave birth to the Second Prince, Ludwig.”

“Luddy…….” Matthew breathed.

Fritz nodded. “Gil turned out to be a prodigy in swordsmanship and strategy. By this time I had been appointed the position I now hold and took him on as my apprentice. Ludwig was given his own estate, where he was raised by a scholarly Pitturian couple and the household staff along the couple’s twin sons. The Queen made frequent visits to the estate and so did Gilbert and I whenever we were not in the field. Gilbert quickly excelled through the ranks from page to squire. All was peaceful for a time…..”

Fritz stopped talking and Matthew grew weary. What could possibly be worse than what had already happened?

“What happened, Fritz?”

He let out a long breath. “One night, a band of rebels from the Krassny Territory ran-sacked the estate. They kidnapped the eight year old Ludwig and burned the estate to the ground. Though, not before trapping the rest of the household inside. Not even the five year old twins escaped. We thought the Prince had also perished. Until a few weeks later a ransom notice was delivered to the palace.”

“So the King paid the ransom and Ludwig was returned.”

“No.”

Matthew started. “….No?”

Fritz met Matthew’s eyes. “No. Gilbert, myself, and Queen Helga argued and begged for his Majesty to reconsider for days. But, his Majesties’ whim is the law of this land. And that law said we didn’t give into ransom demands for _an extra_. He decreed any rescue mission would be considered treason against the crown.”

_Oh no…….._

“The Queen couldn’t stand to remain married to a man who would abandon their child. In a fit of grief and rage, she attempted to use her apothic magic and murder him. She failed and was arrested. Five days later, she was privately executed. I and a few other officials were forced to attend. Thankfully, Gilbert was not present. But before she was, the King felt he was owed something for the insult. He visited her in her jail cell and personally tore out both her eyes. All so he wouldn’t have to look upon the hate they had for him in their depths. Supposedly he keeps them in his chambers as a warning to his mistresses.”

_Oh, God!......._

Matthew lowered his head and stared at the ground in horror. His midriff rolled and the contents of his stomach fought to get out. He couldn’t even stomach the idea of losing his brother, let alone having their father forbid him from going after him. And the queen? His father hadn’t taken just one mother from him, but **two**.

“So Ludwig was lost.”

“No.”

Matthew whipped his head back up and stared at Fritz. “What?”

“Against the express orders of his King and myself, Gilbert launched a solo mission to rescue his brother. A single thirteen year old boy, two weeks away from his knighting ceremony deserted his post as my squire, committed treason, and searched for his brother across enemy territory.”

Matthew was completely stunned. _He did **what**?!?!_

Fritz saw Matthew’s expression and chuckled warily. “I know. I still can’t fathom how he managed that. It took him two years, but eventually he retrieved his brother and brought him back to the royal court. Back to safety and the sentence he knew was waiting for him upon their return.”

Matthew knew it to. There was only one sentence awaiting a traitor. His heart pinched uncomfortably and tears started to prick the corners of his eyes at the image that appeared in his mind.

“Execution.”

Fritz remained silent for a long moment. Barely above a whisper, he croaked out. “…….There are punishments far worse than a swift, relatively painless death sentence.”

Matthew’s soul dropped from his chest to lay at his feet in dread. The way Fritz said it, he was not going to like what Fritz told him next. “Like what, Fritz?”

“A Fodder Slave.”

Both men turned to look at Alfred, completely forgotten in the grave atmosphere of the topic. The young man sat in his spot head lowered with clouds rolling within his eyes. “I’m sorry Fritz.”

He crawled over to where Fritz was sitting and plunked his head down on his shoulder, rubbing his eyes along the fabric of his greatcoat. “I didn’t think to question his motives. I just assumed he was evil and a criminal when I saw the brand.”

Fritz sighed and ran a hand through Alfred’s hair in a show of comfort. “It’s alright, boy. I’m sorry I got so angry with you. It’s just a bit of a sensitive subject for me.”

“He’s very important to you.” Matthew stated. Fritz’s reactions left no room for doubt of that.

Fritz looked over to Matthew once more. “Yes. All my children are important to me.”

The power and emotion behind those words held a heavy weight. It scared Matthew to think of the lengths this man would go to for the people he cared about. The souls he would sacrifice to protect what he considered his.

Matthew shook his head as a shiver ran over his spine. They were getting off topic. “I don’t know what that is. And how did he escape?”

Alfred bolted up off of Fritz’s shoulder and raised his hand like a child. “Oh! Oh! I know!”

Fritz drew in another breath and pinched the bridge of his nose between the fingers of one hand. “Alright, Alfred. Please share with us what you **think** a fodder slave is.”

Alfred lowered his hand and placed it with its counter-part on his hips, chest pushed out in confidence. Kneeling beside his mentor, facing Matthew.

He told them as if he was reciting a definition.

“A fodder slave is a criminal! The worse kind of Meany! It’s someone who deserts the army and is marked a traitor. They are identified by the brand of the black eagle on their back! Their punishment is to serve in the army without pay until they die gloriously in battle. In this way they may regain their dignity!”

He sat back down next to Fritz, arms crossed over his chest. Evidently satisfied he gave the correct answer.

“That doesn’t sound so bad to me.” Matthew commented. “How is working as a soldier worse than rotting in a cell for the rest of his life or execution? I mean, didn’t he spend most of his life either in the palace or with you and your men, Fritz? Wouldn’t that just be another day for him?”

Fritz raised his head and looked up at the stars above, as if gathering strength form the tiny spots of light in the expanse of endless darkness.

He couldn’t look at Matthew as he spoke. “My apprentice is only familiar with the text-book idea of what a fodder slave is. The actual practice and employment of fodder slaves, is far less humane. There is no dignity in it. The name fodder slave is derived from the term cannon fodder. Like their namesake, their entire purpose is to be expendable.”

“What does expendable mean?” Alfred scratched his head.

Matthew rolled his eyes at his brother.

Fritz huffed his chest on top of the log. One hand lifted to flick his forehead with a decisive thwack without looking. “Remind me to double your vocabulary lessons. It means, that their loss is acceptable. In fact their entire purpose **is** to be used up and thrown away. When you become a fodder slave, your existence no longer matters. You are no longer human, you are worth less than animals. You are forced to do the most dangerous missions-!”

“Aren’t all missions dangerous? It’s the military.”

“No. As a General, my job is to achieve victory with the loss of as few lives as possible. You **want** your men to come back. With fodder slaves, that is not the case. An example would be throwing a fodder slave down an enemy well **alive.** So when he perished from the fall, his body would rot and disease would infect the water supply of the fort you were trying to capture. Or sending them running through the battle ground first so the enemy archers would waste their arrows on them. Revealing their locations to us. Sometimes they are sent in as assassins. **If** an opportunity to kill the enemy leader arose in exchange for food. The kind of assignments you couldn’t survive.”

Matthew nearly puked again in disgust. How can someone do something like that to another human being?

The sheriff’s face passed through his mind and he reminded himself that some people were capable of horrific atrocities.

“They aren’t even fed?”

“No, Matthew. They are not fed. Frankly speaking, fodder slave usually don’t last long enough to warrant it. Why would you feed and clothe something that wouldn’t last through the next day? No. Better to use it on the animals and soldiers that **did** matter. They are not given clothes or shelter. They are not given food or water. When they are not out doing missions, their handlers chain them up naked. Hanging from either a tree or stone structure. Never letting their feet touch the ground. If the handlers felt especially sadistic or bored, they would hang them upside down and torture them. The handlers are men who either volunteer for the position, because they are twisted enough to want to be there. Or they are put there so they don’t cause harm to the other soldier and civilians. To discourage rape amongst the camp followers and through the ranks, they are also used for sexual gratification.”

Matthew didn’t know how to react. His mind simply couldn’t wrap around the idea of this actually happening to someone.

 _This happened to **Gil**_.......

How could someone survive in that kind of environment? How long **had** he survived?

“D-do you know how long he was like that?”

Fritz finally lowered his eyes from the expanse of unknown from above. Twin tears escaped from his hollow eyes to run down his cheeks and off his jaw. “Gilbert was fifteen when he returned with Ludwig. The next day he was sentenced and branded. A week after his twentieth birthday, a report arrived to my office declaring his number **_used_**.”

Frits raised a hand and wiped the trails of water left behind with a knuckle. “I assume he somehow managed to escape during a battle. Or maybe pretended to be a dead corpse and made a run for it after they buried him alive. He’s the only one who knows those details.”

_Five years…..he’d suffered that hell for five years……_

“How? How could he possibly last that long? No food, no clothing? It just doesn’t seem possible.”

“He’s a Bartian. The last remaining one of his kind. They are not easy people to kill. He was also given extensive combat training while under me.” He laughed in a self-deprecating fashion. “For all my knowledge and power as a general I still failed to protect him.”

“But what about food? If he wasn’t fed, then how didn’t he starve to death?”

Fritz averted his eyes and looked at the ground off to his side. “I once witnessed a handler feeding some fodder slaves the corpse of their dead comrade……. For fun.”

****

**_“Not everyone has the luxury of eating what they want.”_ **

****

Matthew couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. The rumors called him a Monster. A Demon. A Beast. Yet what being could possibly live through that and still be **human**?!?!

So much of it made sense now. His attitude, his violent episodes, his paranoia. All the little signs of trauma, Matthew didn’t even think to look for. The psyche of a man who had died every moment of every day. For years! But still managed to somehow drag his wrecked self out. To escape the evil that made him.

Matthew looked around at his two companions. He had no idea what expression his face held. He didn’t know how to process this knowledge.

Fritz continued to stare into the flames. Lost in memories that did far more than simply haunt him.

Alfred sat with his head between his knees rocking back and forth; he hands clutching his hair. “H-how…..how can you come back knowing **that** was your fate? What could be worth that high a price?”

His words were empty of force. They contained no emotion of any kind.

No one answered. No one had the energy to do so. The evening’s revelations left them all emotionally and spiritually drained.

Matthew wished he didn’t know. Wished the images in his head didn’t give birth to nightmares feasting on his dreams.

The heavy press of silence fell over them as they all became lost in their own thoughts. Of the implications of the knowledge that had passed.

It was only broken by the words of an unyieldingly fractured Demon Prince.  Shrouded in the dark truth that is his past.

****

**_“_ ** **_Because I wouldn’t let my brother die._ ** **_Because his life is worth more to me than my own.”_ **

****

*******

** German Translations: **

  1. Gott = God
  2. Gegend = Land / Area



** Italian Translations: **

  1. La Pittura = Painting (used to make the word Pitturian, aka the Italian tribe)



** Russian Translations: **

  1. Krassny = Red



** French Translations: **

  1. Papillon = Butterfly



** Japanese Translations: **

  1. Nihon = literally means “Japan” (I know, I’m really unoriginal) XP



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, Challenged here! So…….*evil grin*…..How dem feels doin’? Hopefully this chapter had a few surprises in it you weren’t expecting and provided some context for you. There wasn’t a lot of action in this one, but not to worry! We’ll be jumping right back into the thick of it in the next one! Plus maybe something a little more…..quenching. *sadistic evil grin* If you didn’t understand something in this chapter, please let us know in the comments section. The stuff in here is SUPER important and has bearing on what happens next in the book (and the entire series). 
> 
> Side Note: One of our gracious readers (*Thank you Lindsay!) let us know we were using the German word for “fuck” (aka Fick), incorrectly. Apparently it is used to describe the literal act of sexual intercourse, but is not actually used as a swear word like we English speakers use the word “fuck”. So if any of you care or notice we no longer use it that way or simply replace it with “fuck”, that is why. If anyone else notices any translation mistakes or errors in general, PLEASE LET US KNOW. Constructive criticisms are also extremely appreciated and welcome!
> 
> *We take great pride in trying to be as accurate as possible and my twisted and disturbing internet history proves it. If I ever get arrested by the government, it’s because I was researching some messed up shit to please you stinkers and it’s all your fault. (=_=)
> 
> *If you liked what you read, please let us know in the comments section! We love hearing from you guys and sometimes it is the only thing that fuels my motivation (aka updates). It also helps Talent chill in the (*cough*cough) “encourage Challenged to write” department, if she knows the “excessive” amount of time I take to write is worth it. Help a sister out yeah? Seriously. She has no chill. XP  
> Thanks again and see you all NEXT CHAPTER!


	18. Chapter #16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone! Challenged here! Hopefully you have all recovered a little from the revelations in the last chapter. I know I promised we would get right back into the action in this chapter, but it ended up being a tiny bit more back story and something a little more…..well I don’t think y’all will complain too much (*winks*). Sorry the update took a little longer this time, but you know….life (*sighs*). Enjoy! (^^)

Gil dashed through the Dark Wood at a fast clip. Time was not his friend tonight. The Sheriff and his people were coming. By his calculations he had around twenty-four hours before they located his cabin and those precious inside it. He’d laid traps on his way back for the mob, but that wouldn’t stretch his time by much. He needed to get back and figure out a way to evacuate Birdie and the other two.

_Even if we leave tonight, that doesn’t give us enough time to make it across the border to the north. And traveling in a group at night isn’t wise…..splitting up is even worse. We’ll need to leave at first light, but where to? Maybe-!_

He ducked quickly to avoid impaling his eyes on some low-hanging branches.

 Gil shook his head and narrowed his eyes on the path ahead of him.

_Focus on getting back first. You can make a plan once you get back._

A long while later, he spotted the light of the clearing’s campfire through the trees. He was almost upon it when his ears picked up their conversation.

It lacked the emotion he expected. Instead of teasing and jovialness, a shadow of confusion and distress encompassed the small group surrounding the flames.

“D-do you know how long he was like that?”

Gil skidded to a silent halt, his ears pricking in suspicion.

“Gilbert was fifteen when he returned with Ludwig. The next day he was sentenced and branded. A week after his twentieth birthday, a report arrived to my office declaring his number used.”

_.….What…..?!?!_

“I assume he somehow managed to escape during a battle. Or maybe pretended to be a dead corpse and made a run for it after they buried him alive. He’s the only one who knows those details.”

Gil felt his spine rise and his shoulders drop simultaneously in anger and shock. _Fritz….how could you? **What** are you thinking?!?!_

He strode closer to the clearing, still in the shadows, but now the others were fully visible. Matthew’s back directly in front of him and the others across the pit, facing him. All unaware of his presence.

“But what about food? If he wasn’t fed, then how didn’t he starve to death?”

_No…..don’t do it Fritz. Don’t tell him-!_

Fritz averted his eyes and looked at the ground off to his side. “I once witnessed a handler feeding some fodder slaves the corpse of their dead comrade……. For fun.”

His heart beat a stuttered, though no less deafening, rhythm. The only sound he was capable of making.

He didn’t breath, though his mind screamed. A silent denial of what was happening.

**_He knows. It’s too dangerous to keep him now. I cannot protect him from who I am anymore._ **

Gil glued his eyes to Matthew’s back. Desperate for some indication of what he was thinking. In the corner of his vision the trees started to bleed where he clutched their bark to steady himself.

Matthew looked around at his two companions. His expression utterly crushed. Confusion plainly etched into the corners of his face.

His vision cleared a little and the gruesome image of the trees dissipated as quickly as it had appeared.

His Birdie’s face held sorrow; not disgust.

Gil relaxed and finally managed to breath. Pulling his hands from the trunk, he ran his hands over his trousers to wipe off the bark caught under his nails.

He was still his.  

_At least for tonight._

Fritz continued to stare into the flames. Lost in memories that did far more than simply haunt him.

Alfred sat with his head between his knees rocking back and forth; he hands clutching his hair. “H-how…..how can you come back knowing that was your fate? What could be worth that high a price?”

His words were empty of force. They contained no emotion of any kind.

No one answered. No one appeared to have the energy to do so.

Gil took a steadying breath and marched forward out of the trees behind Matthew.

Enough had been said.

**_“Because I wouldn’t let my brother die. Because his life is worth more to me than my own.”_ **

Fritz’s stare immediately snapped from the flames to Gil’s eyes as he walked out and into view. They shared a look and held as Gil spoke. Silently, Gil transferred a message through their joined gazes. _“I am very upset with you right now. We **will** talk about this later.”_

Fritz gave a single nod, but said nothing. He trusted his over-cautious former student would inform him if they were in any immediate danger. They could talk in the morning.

Alfred flinched at being taken off guard by his sudden appearance, but kept his eyes down-cast and his shoulders hunched.

Matthew didn’t turn to face him. He kept his back turned to Gil; trembling. A long minute dragged on and Gil couldn’t take the silence. “Birdie?”

Matthew stopped trembling for a bare moment before starting up again with greater force. He slowly stood up and gingerly turned around.

Gil took a quick intake of breath at what he saw.

His Birdie was crying.

Large teardrops fell down and over the crest of his cheeks; reddened by the fire. Eyes round with emotion, he stepped around Kuma and toward Gil. Matthew made it a few feet from him and stopped short. Lost, Matthew shook his head and trembled even harder; his hands clutched to his chest. At a complete loss for what he should do now that _he knew._

“G-Gil.” He sobbed.

Gil saw his hesitation and his heart plummeted. Gently, he opened his arms for Matthew. An invitation. A question. “….Birdie?”

Matthew looked at Gil and his open arms. Clenching his eyes shut and letting out a whimper, he rushed Gil and dove into his arms. Head pressing into his chest and wetting the front of his shirt.

Gil wound his arms tight around Matthew’s back, keeping him trapped against him. His head thrown back in relief.  Afraid to lose him.

**Afraid he wouldn’t let him go.**

Letting out a breath, Gil moved his arms from Matthew’s back and placed them under his rear. Taking the silent order, Matthew moved his own arms to Gil’s neck. With Gil’s assistance, he hiked himself up and crossed his legs around his waist. Gil brought his nose down to nuzzle his neck.

Without lifting his head, he strode forward around the campfire and the other two occupants toward the cabin.

Alfred noticed their departure and moved to follow them. Before he left the light of the pit, Fritz grabbed his jacket to stop him.

He turned around, confused. “Whatcha doin’? Aren’t we going to bed now?”

Fritz looked sideways at his young apprentice. If he wasn’t utterly exhausted from the nights conversation and the memories it brought he would have glared or rolled his eyes at his pupils’ obliviousness.

“You will be camping with me tonight. **Outside**. Your brother and Gilbert have much to…… _discuss_ I’m sure.”

Alfred looked to the cabin and back to Fritz. “Are you sure? I don’t really care what the other guy thinks, but Mattie won’t mind. There’s a bed in there and it’s a lot more comfortable than the ground. Are you sure your old man bones can handle it?”

Fritz narrowed his eyes at Alfred. Standing, he circled the young man and came to his front; raising his hand, he placed the palm against the middle of Alfred’s chest.

“The fact that your brother and his lover are together, _alone_ and in a structure with a bed is exactly the reason why you should not follow.”

He paused.

“Now, as for me being old-,” he tilted his head to the side and smiled sweetly up at Alfred. “Little brats who can’t even stand upright without falling have no room to judge.”

Alfred twisted his mouth in question. “But I’m standing right n-!”

Fritz took a single step forward and with the one hand placed on Alfred’s chest, shoved him back. Off his feet, narrowly missing the fire, and directly into Kuma.

The bear huffed from the force of Alfred crashing into him and mewled forlornly as he awoke. Rolling onto his side, he lifted a forepaw and circled it around a squirming Alfred; hugging him to his chest. Affectively trapping the blonde and nearly suffocating him with white fur in the process. Ignoring the unhappy older twin, Kuma went right back to sleep after an affectionate nibble and lick of his hair.

“Ack! No! Fritz! He’s got me! Help! The bear’s gonna eat me! I’m sorry I called you old! I’ll never do it again! Just get me out of here! **_Fritz!!!_** ”

Fritz ignored the plight of his young student and resumed his previous spot by the fire.

“Good Bear.”

 

 

*******

Gil marched straight to the cot once inside the cabin. Kneeling down, he set Matthew down and gently untangled his limbs from around his torso. He took Matthews’ face in his hands and placed a tender kiss on his forehead; using his thumbs to wipe away the remnants of tears.

Standing, Gil walked back to the door and closed it after taking off his cloak and boots. As he turned his back to Matthew, it struck the younger twin how literal the observation was. Gil didn’t trust him. He hadn’t lied, but he _had_ purposely kept important information from him.

_He doesn’t think I can handle it. He’s just like Al. Always trying to be the hero. Dismissing me before I can even try to help._

Thoroughly pissed off at the expanse of spine and what it represented, Matthew grabbed the closest object and hurled it at his direction.

Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, Gil turned on instinct just in time to get a face full of water and a very indignant Matthew glaring daggers at him. The wooden cup usually placed next to the cot strangely misplaced and rolling around near his feet where it landed.

Scrunching his eyes in annoyance, Gil leaned his back against the door; arms crossed. Carding his fingers through his wet hair; slicking it back and off his face. “I realize I don’t smell the best right now, but was an impromptu bath really needed?”

Matthew glared harder from his kneeling position on the cot. “Fuck you, Gil! Now is not the time to be making jokes!”

Gil pulled his lips back in a sardonic sneer. “On the contrary, in light of past events revealed to you against my wishes, I think now is the perfect time to employ a defense mechanism.”

His sneer disappeared. “What I don’t understand is why you are so violently angry, Birdie. Bewilderment is reasonable. Confusion would be obvious. And fright or disgust would even be expected…….but not anger. So tell me, **Matthew**. Why exactly are you so displeased with me?”

Matthew wiped a knuckle over his eyes, tears starting up again in his anger. “You were never going to tell me were you? I can’t believe this. I realize we haven’t known each other that long, but you would **think** something as important as you being **a Prince** might be something worth mentioning!”

Gil’s eyes lost some of their bite momentarily. “No. I wasn’t. And I’m not a Prince. That rank was stripped from me when I was sentenced. The only title I hold now is _Fodder Slave_.”

He paused. “One I can never be cleaned of.”

Matthew huffed. “Title or not, rank or not. You still have the blood of **two** royal families within you, Gil. No brand will ever change that. Either way, you should have told me. How am I supposed to help you if I don’t know anything? We’re partners, Gil. You obviously haven’t retained what that means. Well, let me remind you. We trust and protect each other.”

He crossed his arms and resumed his glare.  “Or do you not trust me for that either?”

“Don’t make me laugh.”

Gil pushed off the door and stalked Matthew at an agonizing pace. Deathly primitive in his advance. Alpha in his intent.

“You know what happened to me, Birdie. I assume Fritz wasn’t cheap on the details. So tell me, what will you do now that you do know? Are you going to protect me from my past? Heal the scars on my soul? Patch up the boo-boos ripping apart my mind? Restore my humanity? **What Matthew?!?!** ”

Matthew scooted back, nervous at the look in Gil’s eyes; dilated in agitation and anger. He fell back on his bottom, leaning back to angle his face away from the predator before him. Gil reached the cot and continued his forward stalk of his prey. Now on all fours. Trapping his quarry beneath him.

“I didn’t tell you, because there was nothing to gain from it. Nothing you can do for me. The damage is done, Birdie. Why would I tell you and put you in more danger with nothing to profit from it?”

Gil knew he should stop, Matthew’s expression said as much. But a point had to be made here. Even if it hurt his Birdie to hear it, it had to be said.

“Or do you plan to avenge me? Do you think I wouldn’t have taken my revenge if the cost wasn’t too high? You think I stomach the knowledge Aldrich is still breathing, because I **want** to? Say I did kill the walking piece of scheiße. There’s only one end to that decision. As heir, mein Bruder would ascend the throne. And as King, he would have to punish me. By killing Aldrich, I would force Luddy to order my execution. After all the trouble I went to to save him, why would I want to hurt him worse than everyone else already had?”

Matthew turned his head away and to the side, attempting to break the connection as Gil’s eyes conveyed the emotion behind the words he spoke. Gil wouldn’t let him and grabbing his chin, forcing him to look at exactly what he was telling him.

“I didn’t tell you, because if they ever find me, it’s the last effort I could give to defend you.  Your ignorance would be the only thing that could save you. It’d be a slim chance, but it’s better than no chance at all.”

His eyes softened and a shadow of regret and worry outlined his visage. His lips lowered to hide all but the points of his canid fangs. The hand once holding his chin captive, now caressed a lone thumb over his cheek lovingly.

“I didn’t tell you, because I couldn’t take the chance that I’d lose you to my past like I’ve lost everything else. I’m scared, Matthew. Scared you will see everything I am. Everything I’ve had to be to survive. That you’ll take one look and I won’t be Gilbert to you anymore. That I’ll be known by only one name. **_Beast_**.”

Matthew froze at the admission as the puzzle pieces fell into place. Like the man himself, they were imperfect, but they were not without reason. And when put together they made something truly exquisite.

Taking his ragged hand, Matthew brought it to his mouth and placed a kiss along the callused knuckles. Ran his lips along the scars, giving beauty to the blemishes.

“He didn’t tell me everything, Gil. There are still questions only you know the answers to.”

Gil took a swift intake of breath. All nervousness and fear taken away by Matthew’s kiss returned tenfold.

Matthew took Gil’s hand and placed it over his heart, beating just as hard and fast as his. Eyes connected and trapped each other’s intentions.

“Please, Gil. Tell me how you escaped. Trust that I won’t shun you. Let me see all of it.”

Gil stared at him for long silent minutes. Matthew waited patiently, not backing down.

Gil broke eye contact first, letting out the quick intake he was holding. He shook his head and crawled back off the cot to stand and pace a few steps away; running a weary hand through his silvery-white strands.

“Please, Gil.”

He paused and turned to Matthew. Another stare. Another shaky breath. Another decision.

Conceding, Gil sat across from Matthew on the low-table in the middle of the room.

“Fritz told you the conditions fodder slaves serve their sentences in, yes?”

Matthew paused. Just thinking about it hurt his stomach. “…..Yes.”

“And he told you I lived through my sentence for five years, yes?”

Matthew merely nodded.

Gil sighed. “Living wouldn’t be the word I’d use. In that hell, survival itself is a luxury. Not the point.”

He sat with his back straight; devoid of his usual casual slouch. The more he spoke, the more serious and stiff he became. The ruby light in his eyes turned darker as his memories passed over them and did the same.

“My sense of time during my sentence is rather disjointed. At times I recognized certain events signaling the passage of time. The change in the seasons, the placement of the moon in the sky. But most of the time, it seemed like one endless nightmare without end. Only you couldn’t ever wake up from this dream……Or sleep to escape its’ clutches. I don’t know how long it took for me to descend. To become the Beast. All I know is that at some point I lost my sense of self. I lost my humanity. I was not longer Gilbert Bielschmidt. I was……..rabid.” 

He looked to Matthew and he nodded encouragingly for Gil to continue.

“The entire time, I was alone. When you view your comrades as a food source, there’s little room for small-talk. Until one day relief troops came in to replace our exhausted soldiers. With them came new fodder slaves.”

He locked gazes with Matthew and held it there. Refusing to hide his fury.

“A child, Matthew. Locke was ten years old when he joined me on the front lines.”

Matthew clutched his stomach as its contents cramped his muscles. _No….Why a child?!?!_

“I didn’t plan it. It just happened. I suppose subconsciously I might have associated him with Luddy. They looked very similar, save Locke’s hair was more of a mousey brown and his eyes were darker. Almost so dark they were black, not blue. One night the handlers were lazy and didn’t bother chaining us up. Locke was an easy meal just waiting to be devoured. The others converged on him and before I knew what I was doing, I’d jumped between them and killed some of his attackers. They backed off after that. Disgusted at myself for wasting energy on an ultimately pointless activity, I strode off. But the damage was done. No matter how much I avoided him or how much I threatened him, the brat wouldn’t leave me alone. He stuck to me at all times. In his eyes, I was his only protection. A fallen angel in the sea of demons.”

A sad smile appeared on his lips, the irony of his words not lost on him. “I knew better. I refused to tell him my name or use his so I wouldn’t get attached to him. To me he was Gӧr and to him I was Poppy.”

Gil laughed a little at that. “He said my eyes were the same shade as his favorite flower and refused to call me anything else.”

Matthew’s heart clenched. _Gil….._

His smile disappeared. “I knew what would eventually happen, but somehow I still ended up keeping him by my side. I still tried to protect him…..like my brother.”

Matthew wanted to comfort him. He had a feeling he knew what’d happened. If the boy had survived he would be with Gil now. The broken man across from him would never abandon a child unless there wasn’t anything left for him to bring back.

“What happened, Gil?”

His eyes grew cold. From his position, Matthew could clearly see the flames in the hearth frame Gil’s form in the darkness of the room. The light of the flames highlighted how his eyes froze in the midst of the memory playing out behind them.

“He saved me. I might have protected him, but he was the one that saved me. I fought him every step of the way, but somehow that boy brought a tiny scrap of myself back to life. He….became my reason for living.”

Gil took a deep breath and pressed on. “We were in the midst of a battle. He ran out at the wrong time and I wasn’t fast enough. The enemy arrows rained down. Locke made a run for a nearby tree, however an arrow got him through the abdomen. He went down at the base of the tree and wouldn’t get up. It would have been a mercy if the arrow had pierced his heart or his neck. Instead he lay there dying in slow agony.”

Matthew’s throat constricted. Hearing it was unbearable. He couldn’t imagine what reliving these memories must feel like for Gil. “What did you do?”

“…….The only thing I **could** do for him.”

A strange look came over him, but Matthew thought better than to ask.

“I laid down next to him and held him tight; frozen on the ground long after he gasped his last tiny breath. Hoping by some miracle I would follow him.”

“Oh, Gil…….”

Gil sniffed and ran a fist over his eyes. “I woke up the next day bathed in his blood, with Gilbird perched on my shoulder. The line had advanced through the night and were no longer in sight. My guess is the handlers saw Gilbird over our blood-soaked, unmoving bodies and assumed we were both dead. The battle was fought on the edge of the Dark Wood across the Krasnyy border. Instinct took over and I grabbed up Locke’s now stiff body, heading into the Dark Wood. I buried him with my family and have remained here ever since.”

The room fell silent. Gil didn’t move. He didn’t seem to breathe. His only motion the twitch of his eyes as he followed Matthew and tracked his reaction.

Matthew simply looked down at his open hands resting on his knees. What could he possibly say to that? Sorry the kid died, but that’s life. Can’t save them all? What utter bullshit. The man before him had lost so much to save so little. Every time, he never hesitated to sacrifice himself for others. Even though the world burned him for being different, he still gave. He still tried.

And in his eyes he’d failed. He might have saved his brother, but he’d failed the child. For him, failing to protect him must be worse than death. Not when he knew he could succeed.

No. Matthew had nothing to say. No epic words of wisdom to make things magically better. He could not and never would truly understand what this man had been through.

And in his own way, Matthew understood he was also under Gil’s protection. Not only from the terror of the Dark Wood, but from the emotion gribbing him now. Gil didn’t tell Matthew to protect him. To protect him from Gil’s past. But also to protect him from this feeling. The feeling of utter helplessness in the face of the shattered being Gil was. The knowledge that no matter what Matthew said, it would never make his pain go away. It would always be a part of Gil. It would always be what made him beautiful.

He had nothing to say. All he had to offer was himself.

Matthew stood and walked to his partner; face unreadable. He stopped in front of him and fisted his hands at his sides. “I’m not Locke, Gil. Or your brother. I’m not a helpless child.”

A pale hand rose and slipped beneath Matthew’s linen shirt. Following a path up his ribs, over his muscles, grazing his nipple, and leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Only coming to rest over the scar of the bite mark on his left shoulder.

“I know. But everyone has limitations, Matthew. You have yours, but I not yet found mine.”

Matthew let out a shaky breath. After a moment, he took the final step forward. Erasing any distance between them.

Gil watched him with apprehension. Lifting his arms, Matthew snaked one around Gil’s shoulders. Drawing Gil into the comfort of his chest. His other hand dove through his hair at a soft rhythm; attempting to message some of the tension there.

Gil let out a happy sigh and relaxed into the ministrations. Relieved and exhausted.

Matthew continued to stroke as he talked. “You’re such an idiot sometimes.”

Gil let out a sudden bark of surprised laughter at Matthew’s loving yet exasperated comment. “Am I now? And here I thought I was rather intelligent.”

“See if you _were_ smart you would know the difference.”

Gil’s body shook as he chuckled his trademark hiss and snuggled his face deeper into Matthew’s chest.

Matthew let him, happy the dark aura had left their moods. He didn’t like fighting, but sometimes ones’ position had to be made. He refused to go back to being the person hidden in the corner; invisible and forgotten.

“I’m sorry I threw the cup at you. I’m sorry I yelled, too. But I still maintain you should have told me. No more secrets, okay? We’re in this thing together, and frankly at this point I’m in it too deep now another secret or two isn’t going to make a difference.”

Gil let out a huff. “I don’t get a choice in this do I?”

“No. Not really.” Matthew replied smartly; a teasing twinkle in his eye.

Gil looked up into Matthew’s teasing smile. He narrowed his eyes and pouted his mouth pitifully.

Matthew giggled and shook his head. “Don’t give me that look! I’m not wavering on this, Gil. You’ll have to do a lot better than that if you want to beat Alfred’s puppy dog eyes.”

Gil widened his eyes to comical levels. From the back of his throat came a high-pitched whine.

“Gil!”

“Okay. Okay. You’re right, you know too much it wouldn’t make a difference.”

The comedic attitude he’d had a second ago died down.  “Am I forgiven?”

Matthew moved his hand from Gil’s hair and pretended to think about it _really_ hard.

Gil was not impressed. “Birdie.”

Matthew looked down at Gil, his lips pulled back in a cheeky grin. “Alright, but under one condition.”

Gil raised a brow. “High-maintenance are we?”

Matthew gave him a playful slap on his shoulder. Gil yelped as if it had actually hurt. “I’ll only forgive you, if you pay the partner tax.”

“Oh? And what is the partner tax?”

Matthew grinned and straddled Gil’s lap atop the low-table. “Guess.”

Heat entered Gil’s eyes and he leaned forward, lips barely grazing Matthew as he spoke. “Is it food?”

Matthew curled both arms around Gil’s neck in an attempt to bring Gil the breaths distance closer he needed to connect their lips. “No.”

He didn’t succeed. Gil resisted, his grin becoming sharper. “Is it water?”

“No.”

“Is it furs?”

“No.”

“Oh! I know! It’s money.”

Okay. Now Matthew was annoyed. “No. Gil. It is not food. It is not water. It is not furs. And it most certainly not money.”

The edges of Gil’s eyes curled up in mirth. “Ah. That leaves just one thing, then.”

“What are you-ACK!!!”

Quicker than Matthew could register, Gil hoisted him up, stood, spun on his heel, and plopped back on the cot with Matthew on top of him.

Moving his blonde hair out of his face, Matthew looked down. Mouth open to reprimand his crimson eyed devil, to be met with a huge shit-eating-grin. “Me.”

Matthew snorted. “Someone’s arrogant.”

Gil’s grin only got bigger. He sat up, meshing Matthew’s growing erection more firmly into his. “It’s not arrogance if I can back it up.”

“Oh yah? Prove it.”

His crimson orbs dilated in challenge. The predator in him anticipating the chase of a different kind of pleasure. An ecstasy more filling than mere food.

“Are you challenging your Alpha?” Gil leaned down as he spoke. Nibbling Matthew’s lips, a tease of how he really wanted to devour him.

Matthew stuck out his tongue, running the member along his partners’ bottom lip. Gil groaned low into Matthews’ open mouth. “Someone has to call you on your bullshit.”

That did it. Taking one hand, Gil gripped Matthew’s hair firmly and tilted it to bare his neck to him. Growling deep, he gave Matthew’s sensitive skin a warning lick before biting down and asserting his dominance without breaking the skin.

Matthew moaned into his lover’s ear and bucked his hips from the pressure on his weak spot. God he loved this. He’d never admit it, but when he bottomed he reveled in the loss of control. The feeling of being dominated, overpowered by a stronger force. Cherished and spoiled with carnal excess.

Gil released Matthews’ neck and ran his canines up the vein as he kissed his way to the blondes’ ear. Sucking the lobe gently, a contrast to the harsh promise in his voice. “Do I need to put you in your place?”

Matthew smiled around panted breaths, his chest brushing against his partners’. The scrape of fabric against fabric making its removal all the more urgent. His hands twisted as he clutched Gil’s shoulder blades for balance. “You think you can?”

The aggressive presence hissed an affectionate laugh. His voice admitted no, but his words played along. “We’ll just have to see about that.”

Gil removed his tongue from Matthew’s ear and instead found it a new home in his panting mouth. Invading the space and taking up permanent residence. Stealing his breath and his sanity in one fell swoop.

While his tongue and teeth taught Matthew’s smart mouth who was in command, Gils’ hands took up their own missions. Running his hands under Matthew’s shirt and up his sides. Lightly grazing his ribs and scaling Matthew’s skin with his sharp nails. Adding excitement at the hint of danger, but not pain.

His thumbs drew inward and deviated from their brethren. Brushing their pads over the younger man’s nipples. Puckering the beaded flesh and turning it a strained, rosy hue. Matthew’s moans became lower, taking on a desperate octave and adding a deeper flavor to their kiss.

At long last their mouths separated; desperate for air. Desperate for more.

Both panting, Matthew leaned back on Gil’s bent knees. Barely taking note of his partners’ swollen lips in his haste to whip off his shirt; continuing the slow grind of his hips as he did so. Gil saw his movement and while momentary distracted by the depraved image Matthew presented, he wanted a filthier one.

He quickly moved to unsnap Matthew’s trousers. Sliding them down his legs and off while he still sat atop him in a leaned back position. Once done, he sat up and repeated the process on himself while Matthew leaned forward to relieve Gil of his own shirt until they were both naked.

They came together once more in a desperate need for more of that intoxicating taste. Again they broke apart. Matthew, head thrown back and panting. Gil sniffing deeply through his nose and emitting a deep rumble from his chest. Pleased with the smell of fever coming off his mate.

His hands snaked around Matthew’s hips to massage and knead the fleshy globes. Gil’s lips went exploring. Charting a trail from Matthews’ swollen lips, down the column of his neck, making a pit stop to nibble his collar bone, and finally between the muscles of his lean pecs. Sampling and laving at the twin peaks standing out from the landscape.

He suckled to irritate and tease, then kissed and stroked to sooth. Repeating the process many times before giving the same attention to its twin.

Now free from the restrains of their clothing, their cocks bobbed freely. Gil’s member rested against the crack of Matthew’s ass, running along its length as Matthew continued to whither atop his lover. Both slicking the entrance and teasingly reminding them both what would happen next. Matthew’s in turn rubbed it’s underside along Gil’s ab muscles. Leaving a trail of clear shine to prove how ready he was for the next step.

“Mhn. Fuck….Gil….”

While Gil continued to wreak havoc on his perky buds, Matthew raised the fingers of one hand to his mouth. Wetting them to his satisfaction, he reached behind to delve into the fissure of his ass crack.

He managed to press the first finger in, just past the knuckle, when the ruby eyed stud beneath him caught his hand and pulled it out. “Oh, no you don’t. I’m taking the lead on this one.”

Surprised, Matthew stopped mid-grind to narrow his eyes at Gil. “What?”

Gil grinned at his perturbed companion and planted a placating, yet teasing kiss on his lips. “I’m supposed to be proving something aren’t I? You’re the one who taxed my forgiveness. I can think of no better payment than making you eat your own words.”

Matthew liked the sound of that. He _really_ liked the sound of that. There was just one problem. “Uh…Gil? I hate to put a damper on your enthusiasm, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to prep me with your nails.”

Gil just grinned harder. “Who said anything about using my hands?”

Okay. Now Matthew was confused. “What?”

Gil’s eyes lost their sparkle for a moment. Then twinkled even more when he realized Matthew didn’t know what he was talking about. “Don’t worry about it, Birdie. Just do what I tell you to. You’re technically still under contract from Kuma, so it shouldn’t be a problem for you.”

Matthew rolled his eyes. “I’m never living that down am I?”

“Not a chance.”

Gil kissed him again. This time gentle and lingering. He deepened the kiss and before long started down Matthew’s chest again. Though this time, he didn’t stop at his nipples. The farther down he went, the more he laid back on the cot. As he placed kisses down the length of the man above him, he used his grip on his ass to urge him forward. Making Matthew climb up Gil’s body, until his crotch was straddling his face.

“Um….I’m not sure where this is going.”

“SSSssshhhhh. Just trust me.”

With that Gil darted his tongue out to lick to bead of precum off the delectable dick literally staring him right in the face. Matthew yelped in surprise and stared down at his partner. “Wait….are you-?!”

Gil answered by running his tongue along the sensitive vein on the underside of his lovers’ cock. Blowing lightly on the tip, before taking the full member into his mouth. Slowly. Languidly. Torturously cautious of the pointed teeth framing it’s path. Tongue cushioning Matthew’s decent, Gil pressed one hand on his hip. Commanding him to move. To thrust down into his mouth. That same hand set the tempo of his thrusts, controlling the movement. His other hand moved to delve between Matthews’ globed cheeks. Crevice already slick from his precum, Gil gathered the lubricant on his knuckle and massaged Matthew’s puckered entrance. Gently pressing, rolling his digit over the twitching flesh. Simultaneously exciting and stretching the man working his cock in his mouth from above.

All the while, Gil stared Matthew down. Watching him. Keeping him in check. Constantly reminding him exactly _who_ was in charge.

Gil stared him down as Matthew’s breathing got more ragged. The taste of precum becoming thicker in the back of his throat. His thighs quivered on Gils’ chin, a tell-tale flush overtaking his pale skin. His thrusts becoming less smooth, more erratic and strained. Eager to thrust into his mouth harder, faster. Still kept in check and denied. Continuing his ministrations to his quivering anus, Gil snaked his thumb forward to apply pressure to the line of erogenous flesh between his entrance and his testicles.

Matthew’s secret weakness.

“Ah! Ah! Gil!”

Gil dragged Matthews’ hip forward, bringing his cock farther into his mouth and deep-throating the tip. Matthews’ orgasm snuck up on him and burst from him in hot spurts. His hips seizing a staccato rhythm. Milking the last drops from him dry.

He pulled out of Gil’s mouth slowly, but didn’t get far. His dick removed, Gil scooted his body down slightly under his lover.

Matthew did nothing as he thought the prep was done and Gil intended to slide down and mount him from behind. He furrowed his brow and paused in his afterglow when Gil only slid down a few mere inches. Directly below his anus.

“Ah….Gil?”

Gil smirked around the load in his mouth. An evil glint in his eyes. Without warning, he grabbed Matthews’ hips with both hands and brought his entrance down to kiss his lips. Swollen muscle on swollen muscle.

“Ack! Gil! Don’t! It’s dirty, what are you-!....Gil-! Oooohhh…..”

The last sound more a guttural groan than an actual word. All reprimands left Matthews’ head at the new sensation Gil was forcing on him. His tongue plunging in. Wetting his stretched entrance with his own cum.  Too much and yet not enough. More shallow and not as stiff as a finger, but wider and more dexterous instead. Reminding Matthew how empty he was. How much he _needed_ something longer and wider inside him.

**_Now._ **

“Gil. No more. Ha ha. I….I need it. _Please_ , Gil.”

Gil grunted and lifted Matthew off his mouth. Placing him astride his stomach instead. Sitting up, he frenched Matthew again. Giving him a taste of his own cum and excitement.

Matthew mewled back down into Gils’ throat, palming his reborn erection. Impatient and needy.

Gil broke away and reached for his discarded shirt. Pulling the leather cord from the nape of the fabrics’ neck, he brought it to his teeth and cut the cord in two. Leaning back toward his quivering prey, he moved Matthews’ hand out of the way and tied the first cord around the weeping erection. Not too tight, but not too loose either. He repeated the same process on his own penis.

“Wha-what are you doing? And where did you learn _that_. I _did not_ teach you that. Even you can’t be that perverted.”

Gil hissed out a chuckle. “Kesesese. Just because I was a virgin until a certain blonde incubus stole my innocence, doesn’t mean I haven’t heard of a few tricks. I had a friend named Francis growing up. He was rather….. _prolific_ in his exploits and told me all the dirty details whether I wanted to hear them or not. As for what I’m doing, this will stave off our orgasms so we can enjoy ourselves longer.”

Matthew snorted. “Somehow I doubt you were ever innocent. Well whomever he is, he has my thanks.”

“What about me?”

Matthew reached up and patted the silvery-white strands atop his head. “You did alright.”

Gil pulled Matthews’ hand from his head and bite down lightly on the plump part of his palm. Growling his annoyance at his lack of appreciation. “Good thing, I tied off our dicks. You have far too much energy to work off.”

“Hmn. Promises, promises.”

“Minx.”

Matthew levered his arms back on Gil’s bent knees and poised himself over the straining member between them.

As he spoke Matthew pushed the cap past his entrance and sat down a few inches on the hard length. Flushed veins creating just the right amount of friction and burn. “At least I deliver.”

Gil halted the progress of his slide downward with a sharp spank from one of the hands on his lovers’ hips. Other hand keeping him firmly at his current depth.

“Ah! Ha ha ha ha. Uhmn-!”

Matthew bit his lip and shuddered around his impalement. Head throne back and eyes closed above a light blush.

Gil raised a single eyebrow. It seems he’d just discovered one of Matthew’s kinks. “Does my Birdie like being punished for his smart mouth?”

Gil tested this theory with another harsh clap to Matthews’ plump rear. Affectionately stroking the flesh as it took on a light dusting of pink.

Matthew mewled on top of him. Desperate to be taken deeper. Itching to be conquered. Too bad for him, Gil was a patient man. He liked to savor his meal as he devoured it.

“Uhmn. What a sweet affirmation.”

Suspicion confirmed, he alternated his love-taps between hands; between cheeks. Leaving his mark on his mate both inside and out. Soothing the hurt. Amping the anticipation.

“Who is your Alpha?” *spank*

“Ah! Ha ha ha….y-you.”

“Are you sure?” *smack*

“Y-YesYou are!…Ha ha…please Gil…I need….I need more…..more! Fuck, Gil. Don’t be cruel. I….ha ha….I can’t stand it.”

“Oh don’t worry, Birdie.” *whack*

“When we’re done here standing will be the last thing you’ll be able to do.” *slap*

Smirking Gil let Matthew slide down to the root, bottoming out. The leather of the cord at Gil’s base teasing his stretched hole. Rewarding his obedience and quenching both their strained agitation. He gave Matthew free reign, bouncing on his dick to his hearts’ content. Head thrown back and body on full display for Gil’s viewing pleasure. Barely human sounds emitting from a wide open and gasping mouth. Sweat forming a dew on the downy hairs of his chest. Glinting off the highlights of his body. Each freckle. Each dip and curve. Each taunt muscle strung out on pleasure.

The pressure built in both of them rapidly. Too much to be contained. Too much for Matthew to bare for long. Their dicks strained and throbbed against their leather confines. Almost to the point of pain. The tips red and sore from the buildup of blood. Extended in sensation.

Matthew dropped down particulary hard and caused them both to yelp. He was getting dizzy. It was harder to breath. His body couldn’t get enough oxygen to his muscles and shivered in response. The younger man couldn’t do it any more. Taking Gil’s dick at shallower depths, he reached around to his front and picked at the cord.

Gil, enjoying the show, stopped him and trapped Matthew’s hand on his dick under his own hand.

“Now, now. Did I tell you you could do that?”

Matthew almost cried. While he absolutely reveled in how his Alpha was making him feel at this moment, he needed relief. He needed it **now.** Pleasure wracked his body so intensly it bordered just on this side of pain. It made him desperate. It made him completely compliant.

“Mhm….Gil. I-I can’t take it anymore. It’s too much. L-let me cum.”

Gil used Matthews’ trapped hand to stroke his own cock. Grazing the tip peaking out of his forskin with his thumb. Making Matthews’ body quake.

“Are you ready for that? Do you think you can handle it? You’re panting so prettily for me, I might just give it to you if you beg me sweetly.”

“Hah-Hah! God please, Gil! Please! Just let me cum, Alpha!”

Gil grunted around a satisfied twist of his lips. Matthew was truly beautiful with his smart mouth shiney as he pleaded.

“Alright, I’ll give you what you want. I’ll always give you what you need.” He moved Matthew’s hands back once again to his own knees. “Hold on tight.”

Without warning, Gil thrust up into Matthew’s clenching hole from below. Hands on his thighs for support, he drilled into his lover with single minded presition. Completely focused on bringing their orgasms to the fore-front. Chasing the peak and bringing it into strak relief as he unclenched his hands from Matthews’ lightly bruised hips and simotaniously pulled the knot on both cords.

Matthew howled on top of him, Gil’s own explantives echoing with him to make a glorious chorus. Gil continued his thrusting ministrations, proloing the pleasure as they both came together on a high note. Gil ballooning Matthews’ stretched hole with the sheer force and amount of his release. Matthew choked on his own screams, his pulsing cock spraying his ecstasy across his Alpha’s chest as he bobbed atop his pounding thrusts.

They both collapsed onto the cot in the wake of the crash. Stuttered gasps and rough exhales. Barely coherent enough to see past the colors swimming in their vision in the afterglow.

 

***

 

Gil recovered first and sat up to servey Matthews’ condition. Limp and tossled across his legs. “You still conscious, Birdie?”

Matthew remained unmoving and didn’t answer.

Gil instantly stilled in concern. “Matthew, that’s not funny.”

Matthew remained motionless.

“Hey! Birdie-!”

Gil instantly forgot his fatigue and sat up to inspect his partner. No! He’d thought he’d gotten over his lack of control. Yes, he’d been a little rougher than usual, but Matthew didn’t say anything. He always let him know if it was too much. Oh, God! If he’d hurt him….-!

Gil paused mid freak out and half sighed half hissed in laughter at his lover. Matthew was fine. Passed out and sleeping contentedly with a small satisfied smile on his pert lips. Sweat-drenched and tousled hair framing his pleasure flushed face.

“Kesesese. Mein Gott, Birdie. You are just too much.”

He gathered his bothersome little pretty package up in his arms and tucked him under the furs. Slipping in next to him, Gil snuggled him to his side. Nestling Matthew’s head in the crook of his shoulder. As Matthew slumbered away his exhaustion, Gil gazed down into his face lovingly. Stroking his blonde hair back so he could see his ravished visage.

Not wanting to waste a single memory, Gil watched him sleep. Matthew had quickly become the most important person in his life. Accepting all parts of him and his beast. No judgement, only acceptance. Only hope.

He would protect this precious being. He knew in the dark pit of his heart he would do everything to save him.

As Matthews’ soft breathing dusted the scars on his chest, the night grew older. The situation closing in on them came back to Gil; no longer ignored in the heat of passion. As he mulled over the circumstances surrounding the threat hunting them, options were taken off the table. A strategy formed in his mind.

Matthew fussed in his sleep, only quieting when Gil hugged him tighter to his side. Trapping him more securely to his heat.

The mob was coming for them. And Gil would be ready for them.

 

***

 

** German Translations: **

  1. Scheiße = Shit
  2. Mein = My/Mine
  3. Bruder = Brother
  4. Gӧr = Brat
  5. Gott = God



** Russian Translations: **

  1. Krasnyy = Red



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone! Challenged here! So how was it? For a second try at a sex scene I think I did alright. Gil’s a fast learner and Matthew’s a great teacher. (*wink*) How ‘bout you guys? Steamy enough for ya? Let me know! We’ve got six more books, so I’d like to improve with each scene as we go. Constructive criticism is always welcome! Anyway hopefully it made it worth the wait. We’ve got a few things we wanna talk about in this note, so please read the stuff below.  
> 1\. July 30th is Talent’s Birthday! So if anyone wants to wish her a happy B-Day do so in the comments section!
> 
> 2\. We found an awesome youtube video and wanted to share with you guys. The video is a Hetalia mmd with Demon US/UK singing a cover by Sam Tsui, Max Schnieder, and Kurt Schneider of Imagine Dragons’ song “Demons”. The video itself was made by the youtuber “Levi Jones”. We found it and were completely struck with how the lyrics fit so well with “Das Biest”. No, seriously guys. Pay attention to the lyrics, it’s terrifying (in a good way). We couldn’t help wishing it is a PruCan vid with Prussia taking America’s bit and Canada singing England’s, but that’s okay. We did manage to find a PruCan version, but they “chipmunked” the voices. (*cries*) Anyway we just thought you guys might like to see it too, so here’s a link. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V4a2saxuIOs) 
> 
> 3\. Apparently one night (very late) Talent stumbled onto an online discussion (we think?) on AO3. When she looked for the topic being discussed it was none other than our story! You guys! That’s awesome! We are so happy you are enjoying it so much you’re discussing it online amongst yourselves and swapping theories. It seriously made my day to hear that. Unfortunately neither of us can find the discussion again so I can read it, but that’s okay. If anyone wants to send us the link that’d be great, but we understand if you guys want your privacy. That being said, we are VERY interested to see what your theories are. What do YOU guys think is gonna happen next? Hmn? If anyone wants to share, please do so in the comments section! We won’t confirm or deny any of them for the sake of not giving out spoilers, but we WILL credit whomever does guess right (or who gets the closest) in our last chapter! We have a lot of surprises planned for you all. I’ve dropped teeny-tiny hints here and there, but we wanted it to wow and amaze you when the plot is revealed, so I tried really hard not to give anything away. I’m curious to see how I did. (*smirk*)
> 
> *That’s all for now, we’ll see you next update! I’ll try and do it faster this time, but I make no promises. Don’t forget to comment on the smut or your theories! Or anything else really. We love to hear from you guys! (^^)


	19. Chapter #17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Challenged here! So guess who’s computer crashed and deleted all their saved writing and reference files just hours after our last update? Mine did! *sobs very unattractively in the background* So yah sorry that this is late, but it’s here! Against all odds, it’s here! A special thanks to my brother (code name: Spud) who very graciously allowed me to use his computer and fill his files with rather explicit and graphic fujoshi material as reference. (He may or may not have been stripped of his innocence a few times by accidentally opening the wrong files. #sorrynotsorry) Anyway, enjoy the chapter and let us know what you think in the comments section! (^^)

Jose sighed around his bitter cup of coffee in the grey light of the early morning. Quiet times like this were too few and far between. They were to be relished. Ordered to stay behind and “handle less important matters”, he relaxed and enjoyed the silence the sheriffs’ absence brought.

Jose grimaced at the mere thought of the boorish individual. The man was abysmal at his job. Power hungry, greedy, and completely without tact. Drunk off his own arrogance, he only brought noise and disorder when he should be bringing peace and tranquility.

Yes, Jose was a much better man for the job. Not because he was some hero, no he was honest enough he wouldn’t sugar coat his ambitions. He wanted the position for the power and the money. The exact things Carlos Machado had. He wanted it. He wanted that prestige and the means to acquire his other desires.

The only difference? Jose understood his place. He knew better than to steal tax money from the crown. He knew better than to wrongfully convict people to suit his purposes. And he definitely knew better than to make the people fear him. They were his greatest assets and what ultimately gave him control of his lot in life. Exactly what he wanted.

No, he was not some hero. He was merely a man with intelligence in pursuit of the means to make himself a comfortable and quiet existence. What Machado was doing was completely idiotic and would ultimately bring about his downfall.

Jose sat back at the Sheriffs’ desk and smiled softly to himself at the thought. All he had to do was grit his teeth and bide his time. His opportunity would come, all he needed to do was wait.

A sudden ruckus from the roost-house ripped through his peace and calm.

“Oh, for the Gods sake! What the hell is wrong with you winged varmints now?!?!”

Very displeased at having his quiet morning disturbed in such a loud fashion, Jose slammed down his favorite mug and stomped out back to the roost-house. Wrenching open the door, he stepped inside. Gingerly tip-toeing along the droppings basically making up the floor, he stopped dead as he saw what the disturbance was.

The roost-house was divided into two different enclosures. One side for the carrier pigeons and the other for the few Cooper Hawks used for longer journeys. The birds fluttered around the rafters in distress and agitation. Save all but one. The biggest of the three Cooper Hawks laid on its back in the talons of something much bigger; much more dangerous. Shrill cries useless in the face of the predator cracking its hollow ribs and pulling strings of flesh out of it’s still beating chest.

A Golden Eagle. The symbol of the Gengend Kingdom. A messenger of the Royal Family.

Running a shaky hand through his hair once he’d gotten over his initial shock, Jose’s eyes took in the form of the giant avian. Bright gold and white feathers painted in red. Massive talons as black as its eyes sunk deep into its prey. Fourteen pounds of speed and muscle.

With a large missive bearing the Crown Prince’s seal attached to its leg.

Jose felt his eyes widen in surprise. Stepping into the cage, he approached the eagle; cautious not to interrupt his snack. Darting a hand in, he removed the missive and stepped back out of the enclosure with the remaining two hawks lest they receive the same fate.

Letting them loose in the roost-house’s entrance, Jose let out a breath and quickly retreated to the safety of the Sheriff’s office. Placing the missive on the desk, he took a fortifying chug of his coffee; wishing it was alcohol instead. Staring the offending piece of paper down over the edge of the mug.

He _technically_ wasn’t allowed to open any official documents. But if it was from the Crown Prince himself, it couldn’t wait for Carlos to return from his “hunting trip”.

Jose smirked. _With any luck this supposed Beast might just eat him instead._

Taking one final look at the missive, he shrugged and broke the seal. _I **am** acting Sheriff while he’s off being a poaching asshole._

As his eyes scanned the missive, his lips progressively formed a Cheshire smile.

 

 

_Carlos Machado_

_Sheriff and Agent in his Majesties Service_

_Protector of the Dark Wood Village_

_I have found some discrepancies in the records you turned in regarding the taxes collected this past autumn. In short, the amount of money turned in is not the amount you were assigned to collect. Please reply with an explanation for this error immediately. If a reply is not received immediately I will be forced to come review your records in person. Please don’t, I detest travel. The Eagle will return to the palace once you attach your reply._

_Sincerely,_

_Vash Zwingli_

_Head of the Royal Treasury_

_In Service to His Highness Prince Ludwig of Gegend_

 

Jose crumpled the letter in his hands as he shook with glee. His chance had finally come! **This** was the opportunity he’d been waiting for. **This** was his time to strike!

Quickly taking out a supply of paper and ink, he wrote out a reply. His hand shaking with his excitement.

 

 

_Vash Zwingli_

_Head of the Royal Treasury_

_In Service to His Highness Prince Ludwig of Gegend_

_My name is Jose. I am the Deputy of the Dark Wood Village working under Sheriff Carlos Machado. The Sherriff is currently hunting down a Beast in the Dark Wood he believes to have killed and eaten residents of the village. I would like to take this opportunity to inform the executive offices of the Sheriffs misconduct and misuse of his position._

_Over my term of service, I have gathered evidence and kept a record of my personal accounts of his abuse toward the villagers. In short, he ignores the law. He skims the taxes meant for the treasury and keeps them for himself. He completely disregards the laws of the land, judging and sentencing people in a way that serves his own purposes. Often times, for his entertainment or gain._

_I urge you to please send a message rider to our village to collect the evidence immediately. Once the Sheriff returns, I fear the evidence will be intercepted before it can reach the appropriate officials._

_I am sorry I could not inform the higher offices sooner. The sheriff has a terrifying hold on the villagers and his eyes often see every movement and correspondence sent out the village. Until now there has been no opportunity to contact the appropriate parties without forfeiting my life and possibly those of the villagers. My deepest apologies._

_I eagerly await your message rider or reply. Perhaps now, true justice can be found for these people._

_Sincerely,_

_Jose of the Dark Wood Village_

_Deputy serving under Sheriff Carlos Machado_

Jose looked back over his handy-work with a thirsty gleam in his eye. Scanning its contents, a final time, he rolled up the missive and added the wax seal of the Sheriffs’ office.

He quickly took the missive and carefully tied it to the eagles’ leg. Once attached, the eagle took off. Carrying with it the fateful letter on one leg and the half-eaten Cooper Hawk in the other.

Jose smiled serenely as the Golden Eagle flew away. Light dancing off the magnificence of its feathers; the blood of the hawk a stark contrast to its brilliant coloring.

_I can’t think of a better metaphoric representation of the fate about to befall my beloved Sheriff._

***

 

Gil glared sadly at the morning light streaming into the cabin. No matter how much he wished it away, the morning had finally come. And with it, he had to put his plan into motion.

He had to say goodbye.

Gently untangling himself from Matthew’s sleepy hold and pulling on his discarded garments, he walked across the cabin and out into the unwanted morning.

Fritz was already awake and preparing food over the campfire for breakfast. Alfred was still asleep. Or dead. It was hard to tell smooshed under Kuma as he was.

Gil strode across the clearing. Without stopping, he told Fritz, “Pack everything up. We’re leaving in twenty minutes.”

Fritz blinked over his sub-standard pot of campfire coffee, but didn’t argue as he put out the fire and quietly began to pack up all their belongings and ready the horses.

Walking into the trees opposite the cabin, Gil waded his way through the underbrush to an herb garden in sore need of weeding. At one point, Gil had tried to quell his insomnia and nightmares with different plants. He’d grown a number of varied species and through trial and error on himself had figured out dosage and quantity. None had worked as a medication for his dark past. However, he **had** learned to make some very pleasant teas as a result.

Digging up a single plant, he walked purposely back across the clearing and back into the cabin; washing its dirt off in the now abandoned coffee pot along the way. Gil filled the cast iron kettle next to the stone fireplace with water from the supply set aside inside and set it to boil. Taking his stone mortar and pestle off the self, Gil began grinding the freshly picked root into a fine powder for tea.

While he worked Gil continued to watch Matthew sleep, though it was anything but calm now. Matthew burrowed even deeper into the furs at the loss of body heat next to him. A pouty frown upon his face as he stirred restlessly; looking for what was lost.

_I was only lost until you found me, Birdie._

Stirring the fresh powder into two wooden mugs filled with hot water, he called out to Matthew. “Birdie, it’s time to get up sleepy head. We need to talk.”

 

***

 

“Umn….”

Matthew turned over in the furs and begrudgingly sat up at the unintelligible cadence he recognized as Gil’s voice. A less than enthusiastic squint adorned his usually rolling eyes. He scowled at being woken from his slumber, but his bed-head ruined the venom in his glare.

Gil next to the low table in the middle of the room. Two wooden mugs set up in front of him.

“Oh, poor thing. Come here, Birdie. There’s something I need to tell you.” He indicated cheerily toward the drinks in front of him. “And look! I’ve made tea.”

Matthew eyed the two wooden mugs set on the low-table in the middle of the room. His eyes darted between the liquid vessels and Gil. “Oh, sure. **Now** you want to talk. And since when do you make tea? The world must be ending if you’re volunteering informa-!”

His eyes stopped mid roll to stare directly into Gil’s in alarm.

He drew back the furs and pulled on his pants and shirt before padding over to Gil and the table. “What’s happened now, Gil?”

Gil motioned for him to sit across from him and drink his tea. “We’re in no immediate danger, Birdie. And I’ve always been able to make tea. Though I couldn’t exactly make it without any ingredients. You know. Since they were under snow for the last couple of months.”

His eyebrow rose pointedly at the last bit.

Matthew took up his mug and blew on it before taking a sip. He tilted his head in assent. “Point taken.”

He took a bigger gulp of the steaming liquid before setting it down once more. Staring at Gil, he waited.

Gil took a drink of his own brew before he spoke. “They’ve found me.”

Matthew’s eyes widened in alarm. His heart froze so quickly in his chest, his breath didn’t have time to mist. _No…..._

**_“YOUR FATHER KNOWS YOU’RE ALIVE?!?!?!?!”_ **

Gil sneered at the screeched question. “That man has never been my father. The only person I will ever give that title is, Fritz. At one point he was my king. Nothing else.”

Matthew settled down slightly in relief.

“Though he probably will shortly.”

Matthew stiffened again.

Gil took another sip of his tea. He looked pointedly at Matthew’s mug; silently indicating he wouldn’t continue until Matthew took another soothing drought of the tea.

Matthew chugged down the rest of it before slamming it down in impatience. “What. Happened. Gil.”

Gil grimaced before tossing back the rest of his own drink. He set it down and stooped his fingers in front of him.

“I don’t know how, but Sheriff Machado has discovered my existence. He’s leading a hunting party through the Dark Woods toward us as we speak. Apparently, I’m to blame for your disappearance. For your **devouring**. I have set up traps to stall their arrival, but staying here is dangerous. They will arrive by nightfall.”

Matthew couldn’t believe what he was hearing. _A **hunting** **party**. Are you serious? How did Machado get enough men together on such short notice? It’s the middle of planting season. He’d have had to gather them up one by one and light the signal……._

His eyes widened once more, but this time in realization. He met Gil’s eyes. “The fire last night……”

Gil nodded. “You know I went to investigate. I arrived at your village to find the villagers gathered from the fields and corralled into the town square. Summoned by your Sheriff, it would seem. He proceeded to inform them of the deaths of yourself and Alfred. At my hand. I must admit, I’m a little hurt. It didn’t take very much to incite them.”

Gil pouted in supposed hurt.

“Gil!”

He smiled apologetically. “We’re talking about my hunting, Birdie. If I want to joke about it, I think I have the right.”

Matthew glared at him. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

Gil rolled his eyes and spoke drolly. “I was going to. However, I walked back into camp just in time to hear my past being clinically laid out for all to dissect. A past I’d hoped you’d never have to know. You’ll have to forgive me if my emotions impeded me from multitasking the numerous death threats constantly hanging over my head.”

Matthew glared harder at Gil’s lack of care for the situation. He jumped up and turned in place; not sure what to do, but frantic to do it.

“We-ah. We need to leave. It’s not safe here.” Matthew stopped his spinning to face the cabin’s door. “We need to tall Fritz and Al. We need to pack and move as soon as possible!”

He took a step around the low-table toward the door, before Gil stopped him. “I’ve already told, Fritz. He’ll have their horses ready in a few minutes.”

Matthew turned back and paused before walking to the shelves. Tripping over Gilbird in the corner. “Good. Good. I’ll get started on our stuff.”

He grabbed one of the leather sacks hanging from the hooks by the shelves. Rambling as he went.

“Should I pack food? No. We don’t have time. You’ll just have to hunt along the way. Is the Krassny border far? I don’t suppose we can come back for anything later……What about extra clothes? Fur? Are we bringing the wolves with us? Kuma? What about-!”

Gil stood and walked up behind Matthew as he flittered around the cabin. Twining his arms around Matthew’s middle, he rested his chin on the top of his blonde waves.

“Just the bare minimum, Birdie. It’s not a long trip. Don’t worry, the wolves and Kuma will be going with you.”

His arms tightened around Matthew ever so slightly.

“No. You can’t come back here. Not ever.”

Matthew made to turn in his arms to look at Gil. “Gil, what do you mea-!”

Matthew suddenly pitched forward, his entire weight held up by the chest under his nose. The arms holding him tight. His vision grew fuzzy. He had trouble forming words as this tongue swelled thickly in his mouth. Gravity seems to have doubled its hold on his body and Matthew lost the feeling in his limbs. His neck wouldn’t hold his head up. He couldn’t see Gil’s face.

Gil clutched his Birdie to his chest. Though his anguish was hot, his face was stone cold. A mask he’d worn for many a masquerade, both as a slave and as a prince.

Though he himself couldn’t manage more than an unintelligible stream of grunts, the man holding him knew the exact words to both strengthen and destroy him.

“I can’t go with you, Birdie. They know I’m here. If they haven’t figured out exactly who I am, you can be sure the King will put two and two together shortly. A Sheriff in his Majesties service isn’t allowed to launch a hunt on a supposed magical creature without notifying the crown. The King will hear of a Beast’s existence and an investigation will be launched.” Gil gave out a barking hiss of self-deprecating laughter. “If the Sheriff doesn’t kill me and mount my head like a prized trophy first.”

Gil killed Matthew’s trust with his words. He brought his rage to life in its place. Once again, this man had taken action without consulting him. Without giving him a choice. Without trusting him to protect him.

Gil shifted Matthew in his grasp and carried him bridal style to the fur cot before laying him down. Turning Matthew’s head to face him, Gil smoothed his Birdie’s hair back off his face reverently. Smiling down fondly at Matthew’s loaded glare. Gil felt comfort in the anger and hurt there. It proved this was real. That Matthew was angry at him and on his behalf. That even though Matthew had never spoken the words out loud; Gil knew the depth of his emotion.

“No matter where I go, I will be hunted. There is nowhere for me to hide now. Not even across the borders. I can’t put you through that and I can’t live as a Beast ever again. You **tamed** me Matthew. You took the thing I had become and dragged what little humanity was left in me out of the shadows that make up my soul. You made me whole again. You made me **loved** again.”

Matthew screamed inside his head. Weak words coming out in garbled clumps. Unable to answer Gil. Unable to tell him how **_UTTERLY STUPID_** he was being. He screamed at his inability to protect this broken man.

His partner.

The one person who was truly his. The one person who cherished him uniquely in this way.

Matthew willed his arms to move toward his Beast. Whether to embrace Gil or throttle him, he hadn’t decided yet. But like his voice, the function never came. All he could do was glare up at Gil and scream out in his mind. His limbs useless. His vision fading as the man above him slowly disappeared into inky darkness.

Before the image of his characteristic rakish smirk blotted out completely, a final admission registered through the haze.

“I love you Matthew. I only regret my tattered soul was all I could give you.”

Gil pressed his lips to Matthew’s one last time before the world went black.

 

***

Fritz stared hard at the door to the cabin. Trying his damndest to ignore his apprentice’s constant squawking chatter. Deep worry lines etched his face. He truly had no idea how last night’s revelations had effected his adopted son’s relationship.

He did not regret his actions, they needed to be done. If they were to have a healthy long-term companionship built on mutual trust, Matthew needed to know Gilbert’s past. He needed to know how deep Gilbert’s scars ran.

He just wished Gilbert had told him on his own.

Fritz let out a weary breath and scratched the back of his head. _One of these days I’ll finally cure him of his raw tenacity._

He paused mid scratch and squinted his eyes in regret. So many regrets. _One day he will learn his own worth in something more than as a sacrifice._

“Hey, Master! I’m finished packing my bags! Should I go get Mattie, now?”

Fritz paused in his serious thoughts to look over at his page. Alfred stood beside his blonde chestnut colored stallion. Seeming pleased at the speed he’d packed his belongings and readied his mount for travel.

_Eighteen minutes. The enemy would have launched an attack and killed him by now. Yet another thing we need to work on._

It had taken Fritz a mere three minutes to ready himself and his belongings. An acceptable amount of time if evacuation and retreat were necessary.

_Though I will give him a handicap considering he was literally trapped under a Bear’s worth of weight for most of that time._

“Gilbert said we would be leaving in twenty minutes. They should be out any minute now.”

Confident in his words, Fritz mounted his own warhorse and motioned for Alfred to do the same. As he settled himself in the saddle, the door to the cabin opened behind them.

Fritz turned to call out to them, but the words died in his mouth. Expecting to see two men standing in the doorway, he was surprised to see only Gil. Something large rolled up in his black fur cloak thrown over his shoulder. A withering leather sack gripped in his hand.

_He knows better than to pack all that. What is he doing?_

As Gil stepped out of the doorway and toward them, Fritz shifted in his seat to peer around him into the cabin. Matthew was not there.

Confused, Fritz turned back to Gil.

Gil tossed the leather sack up to Alfred as he neared the horses. To Fritz, he lifted the cloaked bundle up and set it across his lap. As the weight of the bundle settled in his arms, Fritz felt the familiar warmth and shape of a human body. Reaching up, he pulled back the hood of the wolfen shroud to look down into the slumbering face of Matthew.

An unnatural slumber.

Fritz stiffened and turned to his former squire; eyes hard. “Gilbert Beilschmidt. You will tell me right now what you have done. You will tell me right now what has happened and what idiotic plan you have thought of now.”

His head tilted in that way that let his subordinates know they faced his full attention. His full authority.

Fritz saw Alfred move for his sword out of the corner of his eye and gave him a pointed look. Any action or outburst he was about to attempt died a quick death.

He once again focused on Gil.

Red-stained eyes met his and held. No apology, only resolve.

“The village knows of my existence, Fritz. Sheriff Machado has somehow figured out I’m here and I’m the reason Matthew hasn’t returned to the village. The fire last night was a call to arms. To form a hunting party for the Beast devouring the missing villagers. It is no longer safe here. You must take him and your apprentice. You must leave this place.”

Gil looked at Matthew’s sleeping form with love.

Fritz understood immediately what Gil intended. _No. Not again._

“And what about you, Gilbert? Do you not intend to see him safely escorted yourself?”

Gil turned his eyes back to Fritz. “No. I cannot come with you. The Sheriff’s real intention is Matthew. He has an unhealthy obsession with him and wishes to **own** him. Matthew fled into the Dark Wood to escape him. He will not stop searching unless something is here to dissuade him. To stall him, while you make your escape. I gave him some Valerian tea. He should be out long enough for you to make it back to your estate. Provided you don’t stop to water the horses and avoid the village.”

Fritz steeled his heart against the anger scorching through him. “And since when have you learned how to make Valerian tea? Let alone figured out the correct dosage to drug someone with?”

Gil shrugged. “I attempted many different drugs when I first came here. Anything to get a decent nights’ sleep and stave off my episodes. Anything to keep the Beast dormant. Too bad none of them worked. Not well anyway. And I built up a tolerance for them in the end.”

Fritz furrowed his brow. “That still doesn’t give you the right or license to drug him.”

“He wouldn’t have gone any other way. My Birdie, is stubborn like that.”

Gil looked at his sleeping face fondly, as if engraving his visage in his mind. Like he would never see it again.

“You aren’t just staying to stall them, are you?” Fritz said. “You have no intention of meeting up with us later. You intend to die here.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. Fritz recognized that look. He knew Gil’s pattern.

Fritz reached around the bundled Matthew and clasped a hand to Gil’s shoulder.

“Don’t. Don’t do this to me. Not again. I lost you once. I killed you under my command and my soul died with you. I just got you back. Don’t throw away the life you could have with him for this. Your happiness is worth more than this scum of a Sheriff. You are worth more. Don’t just give up like this.”

Gil smiled sadly up at his father. “I would give anything to live happily. I **am** alive again. Thanks to him.”

He looked to Matthew, them back to Fritz. “A Sheriff in his Majesties service has issued a hunt on me. A supposed magical Beast. You know as well as I do, a missive would have been sent to the capital. I am no longer hidden from the King. He will figure out I am alive. If I run, he will come after me. If you protect me, he will come for you too. Over borders and across seas. He will start **wars** to obliterate my existence. Either I will die or he will and the collateral damage will be too great. It comes down to a simple decision. One life or thousands.”

Gil gave him a pointed look. “A great general once told me no matter how important the life, it is no more sacred than any other. If it comes down to it. Save the numbers, not the individual.”

Fritz felt his heart clench at the words he’d once spoken to Gil as a young squire. He regretted those words now. “I don’t care. I can’t lose you again. **Ludwig** can’t lose you again-!”

Fritz stopped as Gil closed his eyes. Hurt radiating throughout his countenance. When he opened them again. They were not the eyes of the man. They were the eyes of the Beast.

His teeth pulled back in a feral snarl. “You’ve already failed me once. Do you really intend to do it again?”

Fritz flinched at the sharp stabs of those words. Every insecurity and second guess at his actions came back to him. And with them his phantoms. 

_**“Protect him, Fritz. Just keep him safe.”** _

Fritz closed his eyes in an attempt to stave off the tears. Hindsight was a bitch.

He felt a gentle hand over his.

Fritz opened his eyes and there was his son. Looking up at him. Pleading for Fritz to abandon him. To leave him to his grisly fate.

“If you must save a piece of me. Take him. Protect **him**. For he is my heart and without him, I am no longer living.”

Fritz felt all his emotions slam into him full force. The ache in his chest freshly banked, opened anew. Grief flooded him. He drowned in the hopelessness of the situation. At his inability to do anything. At the knowledge, he knew Gil was right. When it came down to it, it was him or possibly thousands.

As a general he knew this was the right path. As a mere man, he hated his inability to challenge it. To risk so many countless faces.

To risk Ludwig.

Because he knew if the King ever found out Gilbert was still alive, Ludwig would try to save him. And he would be made an example. Just like his brother.

The future of the country relied on Ludwig replacing Aldrich as King. It wasn’t just about his own personal feelings. It was about the safety of the nation he’d served almost his entire life.

It was too much.

It was not enough.

“Goodbye, my son.”

Turning his head away lest he loose his will, Fritz turned his warhorse away from Gil and galloped away from the most unselfish being the world had ever known. His current apprentice and an entourage of wolves and bear behind him. Intent on following and protecting their Alpha Female. The Eagle screeched desperately from the leather sack attached to Alfred’s saddle bag.

The inky black of the trees enveloped their escape. A hallowed and tortured roar erupted from the clearing behind them. The pack took up the call in the wake of their departure.

As tears streamed down his face, Fritz lamented at the hard decision he had once again been forced to make. Another memory to haunt him. Another ghost to weigh down his mind. A bestial roar to drown out the permanent screams.

 

***

 

Matthew groaned into the plush pillow beneath him at the massive headache reverberating through his skull. The first traces of dusk filtered in through the clean window to his left.

_Fuck that tea! And fuck Gil for knocking me out with some amateur Apothecary bullshi-!_

Matthew sat bolt upright in bed and immediately regretted it as his vision swam. He felt the sudden urge the throw up and glanced around weakly for a vessel to throw up in.

“Whoa! Hey, Bro! You don’t look so good.”

For once Alfred was actually helpful and passed Matthew a bedpan from somewhere in the room. Matthew didn’t know and didn’t care; just grateful he wouldn’t ruin the lovely sheets around him.

After relieving his stomach of its contents he sat back against the pillows and groaned. _At least the headache isn’t as bad now._

“I’m gonna go get the old man. He'll want to see you now that you’re up.”

His twin left and Matthew stewed in his fury.

He was going to track down that albino asshole and give Gil such a tongue lashing! The marks from his mouthy digit would make the brands on his back look like love-bites. Oh, he was going to rip him such a new one, **he’d** be the one bedridden and locked in the cabin for weeks! When-!

Matthew didn’t get a change to wallow in the thought as the door opened once again and both Fritz and Alfred stepped in.

For once Alfred remain quiet. Strangely somber in fact as Fritz began to speak.

“Good morning, Matthew. I hope the room is to your liking. You seem to have slept quite well. Let me fill you in on what’s happened.”

The smile on his face turned serious. It turned sad. “We are currently at my estate, just outside the Royal Capital. You slept through the entire trip in fact, and-!”

**_“Fuck. You.”_ **

Fritz stuttered to a stop and Alfred visibly blanched. “Excuse, me?”

Matthew looked the general dead in the eye as he spoke. “Oh, you heard me. Fuck. You.”

Fritz chuckled a little nervously. The usually cheery and spunky young man seemed predatory in his verbal attack. “I know this is a lot for you. And you must be confused, but-!”

“On the contrary.” Matthew said. His voice edged in steel. “I’m not confused about anything. I know exactly what happened. You **allowed** , Gil to stay behind. You **allowed** him to talk you into his convoluted idea of heroic extravagance. You didn’t stop to even consider another option or possible solution. Didn’t attempt something a little risky to change the outcome. No. You left him to die. In the woods. Either at the hands of Carlos or the King. You abandoned him to participate in what I’m quite certain at this point, is his fucked-up **_hobby_**!”

Fritz and Alfred paused at the last part.

“Hobby?!?!?” They both gasped in unison.

“He’s tried to off himself so many times you’d think he actually enjoys it.” Matthew grumbled.

Matthew threw back the sheets and toddled to his feet on weak knees. “Now take me to the palace.”

Alfred handed him his trousers off the dresser automatically. Fritz still felt frozen in place, but melted at the command.

“I will do no such thing. Going to see the King will get you killed quicker than any battle.”

Matthew pulled up his trousers. Fastening them as he looked over his shoulder at Fritz. “You are no longer in a place to talk of protecting anything. If you’re too much of a pussy to take a risk and change things, then **I** will…. Besides. I have no business with the King.”

This time Alfred was the one to ask; surprised. “You don’t, Bro?”

Matthew finished tucking his shirt into his trousers and straightening up, turned to the two other men.

“I think a certain Prince owes his brother a **very** big favor.”

 

*******

Sheriff Carlos Machado waded his way through the heavy underbrush before finally taking his first step into the clearing.

It had been a long and arduous journey through the Dark Wood. Thankfully they hadn’t been attacked by any wild creatures. Though, they had lost a few men to hunting traps along the way. None died, but a few had to be sent back. Hobbled by sprained ankles and other similar injuries. Whether they made it back to the village alive or not, he didn’t care. 

_I must remember to punish the hunters next time they come back in. I am not amused by trouble their traps caused me._

Either way, they had made it to this encampment and Carlos looked forward to getting a good night’s sleep before the hunt continued tomorrow.

He walked across the clearing, around the fire, and toward the cabin on the opposite end.

They were surprised to find someone living out here in the wild danger of the Dark Wood, but either way the fire had drawn them here to its safety and would keep them for the night.

_Maybe the hermit living here knows where the Beast’s lair is._

Carlos opened the door without knocking to find it empty. No inhabitants, only a few scattered belongings thrown about in haste.

Confused, he poked around a little before a startled gasp came up from the crowd gathered at the door. The men outside were backing away. Eyes upturned toward the roof and filled with a kind of awe-inspiring fear few could instill.

A hollow hiss of strange laughter came from above. A sound akin to the chill in the air.

Carlos quickly ran out to join them and looked up to see what had them in such a tizzy.

From within the shadows of the bonfire, a pair of blood-stained eyes looked out at them. The eyes of a predator. The eyes of a Beast.

A shirtless, pale figure stepped out to the edge of the roof above them. He sneered a hungry show of feral teeth.

The monster opened his arms to the crowd below.

“And to think you kept me waiting for so long, my angry mob. It’s been so long since I’ve had……proper dinner guests.”

And with that, the night sky filled with the terrified cries of the hunting party. As the Beast above them, dropped down to devour his meal.

 

** Russian Translations: **

  1. Krassny = Red



****

** German Translations: **

  1. Gegend = Land / Area



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Challenged here! Woot Woot! Another chapter done! Again, sorry this took so long, I had such high hopes I wouldn’t disappoint you guys this time. But, it’s kinda hard to write a chapter without a computer, internet, or our notes and reference files so……yah. Again, thank you to my brother Spud who learned WAY more about fanfiction and the yoai fandom than he wanted to. I will try and get the next chapter out soon, but I don’t have the money for a new laptop yet so I’ll be dependent on my brother’s goodwill. *He’s so good to his crazy sister* I can’t promise when the next chapter will be out, but I will promise to try and make it soon!  
> **Caution** : Valerian is a real plant. As we have proven before, Talent and I try really hard to make everything in our stories as plausible (as much as fiction can anyway *wink*) and realistic as possible. Therefore, we researched and used a real plant for Matthew’s sleeping tea. That being said, DON’T BE STUPID!!!!!!! There are many different variations of this plant, almost all of which are either partially or completely poisonous and will kill you. So, while it is true that some types are used by grinding the roots to make teas to help people sleep, it should only be attempted by experts in real life. DON’T BE STUPID AND MAKE YOUR OWN TEA! YOU WILL DIE AND NEVER KNOW WHAT HAPPENS AT THE END OF THE STORY OR THE SERIES! Plus, Talent and I would be sad. Very Sad.  
> Until Next Time! If you liked the chapter let us know in the comments section! Your words provide motivation and good writing vibes for faster updates! (^^)


	20. Chapter #18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone! Challenged here!   
> First: THANK YOU all for always being so patient with me. October 20th was my B-day, so I took a few days off to binge watch anime in celebration of that. Plus, I am still down a laptop. But am still saving up and hopefully won’t be for much longer! *thumbs up*   
> Second: Happy Anniversary Das Biest! We first uploaded this work on October 8th, 2016. Special thanks to all our readers who’ve been here since the beginning and welcome to all our new readers! (^^)  
> Third: Shout out to “IsvsWorld” and “Bookwormivy”!   
> -“IsvsWorld”: Thank you for your comment, it made me feel……. Amazing. *wink*   
> -“Bookwormivy”: *sigh* Believe me, Talent and I didn’t like it either. Unfortunately Gil is suborn and wouldn’t listen to us when we told him he was being exceptionally stupid.   
> *Alright, on with the chapter! Fair warning! The “Graphic Depictions of Violence” and “Blood and Torture” tags are up there for these next few chapters. Trigger warning maybe? Translations and more notes at the bottom. And don’t forget to let us know what you think or give us a shout out in the comments section! They’re what keeps me going (especially now) and most of all enjoy the chapter!

 

A harsh song played through Gilbert’s waning consciousness.

The Introduction, the mob overtaking him and tying him upside down to hang from the tree beside the cabin. The Chorus, Sheriff Machado questioning and insulting him. Each new Verse, a different mob member or implement. Taking turns. Seeing which one of them would break him. Seeing which one of Carlos’s tools would play percussion and ring out his cries.

Under the repeating melody, the rope which bound him swung from the force of their blows to his person. Keeping a steady beat. A metronome measuring his decent.

The song went on for hours to no applause from him. No matter what they did, Gil kept silent. He kept their focus on him. Not only did Gil force them to play his game, he made it so he _was_ the game.

Gil chuckled in self-deprecation internally. _Well, I suppose it fits since they **are** hunting me. _

He kept their attention on him and his interrogation. Their focus on **him** , and not his Birdie.

The Sheriff thought he was in control of their song. But, Gil was the sole conductor of the tune. And like a true conductor, he **_listened_**.

He kept completely silent and immobile; never adding his own harmony to theirs. And as the song repeated, it morphed from a triumphant anthem into a sweet lullaby. His blinks became more frequent and his eyelids heavier.

The song became predictable.

It became **_boring_**.

_If I had a choice I would’ve liked to remain a man at the end. But I don’t think as I am now, I’ll be able to stave off the Beast._

Now that he’d known and fell in love with Matthew, he was once again human.

And **_weak_**.

Gilbert knew his hold on reality was tentative at best. But still, he gritted his teeth and clung to his sanity. If he reverted back, he wouldn’t be able to keep their attention on him. And he needed to stall for as long as possible so Fritz could whisk Matthew away where Carlos would never find him.

**_He will never touch you again, Matthew. I won’t let him._ **

He continued to swing from side to side. The pressure in his head built until his thought he felt stretch marks rivet his skull. Lulled by the motion. The song becoming white noise.

_So tired……._

“Hey! Did he fall asleep?”

“While we were beating him? Nah, man he probably passed out.”

“But he didn’t flinch or make a sound this entire time! How could he pass out?”

“I don’t know, maybe we hit him too hard?”

**“YOU IDIOTS!** How am I supposed to question him if you inbred pieces of shit can’t even beat someone right! I said no vital organs or his head. Only smash, don’t stab. **How can you possibly fuck up with only three instructions?!?!”**

“B-but Sheriff, we did follow your instructions. No one hit him in the wrong place and we only used sticks and blunt objects.”

Gil nearly grimaced and opened his eyes when he heard the hard crunch and the answering howl as the Sheriff crushed the young man’s nose back into his skull with clenched fingers.

“Shut up! Or you can join him up in the tree! But, I don’t need to question you. I’ll let the rope eat your neck.”

The wounded man crumpled to the ground, whimpering in pain. Someone dragged him over to the fire pit and out of the way.

“You! Take that bucket and get some water to wake him up.”

Footsteps scurried away as someone ran for a nearby water source.

Gil debated whether he should open his eyes and let them know he was awake or not. He didn’t relish the idea of being doused, but he was thirsty and it was unlikely they would volunteer any drinking water for him any time soon. Besides, the chilly water might chase away some of his exhaustion.

And he needed to stay awake to keep Carlos playing his game.

As much as he just wanted to kill everyone and be done with it, these people were the Sheriff’s victims same as him. And he needed the Sheriff to outlive him.

To silence any secrets he would spill should Aldrich get his hands on him.

He would stall Carlos as long as it took for Matthew to disappear. Then he’d drive Carlos to kill him.

He’d end the threat his life caused and take Matthew’s location with him. These people’s memory of Matthew would evaporate into the air with his last breath. And his love would be safe.

Gil pictured his Birdies’ cheeky grin and smiled softly in his supposed sleep.

“Oh, no you don’t. No happy dreams for you. Wakey, wakey, Beast!”

Filthy water laden with sticks and gravel clapped down over Gil’s face and neck harshly. He sputtered slightly at the unexpected debris and tried not to inhale through his nose as he gulped down a brief mouthful of nasty water. 

_Puddle water. **Lovely**._

Gil cracked his eyes open lazily and gave a show of yawning languidly around the bits in his teeth. “Oh? Are you guys done with the foreplay already? I gotta say your technique could use some work. My muscles aren’t **nearly** massaged enough for anything **serious**.”

He smirked insultingly in Carlos’s direction. “Then again, your seduction attempt literally put me to sleep. So maybe it wouldn’t be worth my time.”

He’d expected Carlos’s eyes to widen in anger.

Carlos didn’t do what he expected.

Instead he turned toward a few of the men encircling Gil’s hanging form.

“Boy! Check the shack. See if you can find something we can use on our horny bitch here!”

A young man, maybe fifteen, wobbled to his legs and mustered enough strength to sway in the direction of the cabin.

Carlos turned back to face Gil with a lascivious pull of his lips. “You should’ve said something if you’re into the rougher stuff.”

Gil narrowed his eyes at the rotten being before him. “You should’ve stayed in your village if this is the best you can do.”

Carlos didn’t get a chance to respond as the young man with the crushed in face hobbled toward them under the weight of the chains.

**_His chains._ **

Gil could hear the young man’s harsh breathing and winced. Some of the cartilage had been pushed down his airway. If he was lucky, he’d live with a permanent rasp to his voice and a shortness of breath; not to mention his now disfigured face. If he wasn’t lucky, the bits of what was once his nose would make it into his lungs. If the resulting infection didn’t kill him, the cartilage would eventually damage and pierce the lining of his lungs.

He would drown in his own blood.

_Another one I can’t save._

The young man labored under the weight of the chains, hunched over as he dragged them towards the group _._

The young man lifted his mousy brown head and locked eyes with Gil.

Gil’s heart thundered in his chest and his eyes blew open in slack-jawed recognition.

 

**_“P-Poppy…I’m so hungry…I’m scared…I wanna go home…Why can’t we go home?”_ **

 

“Faster boy! I want it over here now!”

The young man hobbled faster, in an effort to reach them quicker. But as he reached them, he lost his balance and pitched forward to land right in front of Gil.

“You. Stupid-!”

The Sheriff raised his hand high to strike and something in Gil exploded.

He didn’t think. He didn’t feel. He was **_instinct_**.

Gil twisted his body to lung at the Sheriffs hand. At the same time, another moved in front of it. In his splintered state of mind, Gil didn’t recognize that the hand he attacked belonged to the man who’d assisted the injured young man to the camp fire. He didn’t recognize that the hand now caged up to the wrist, had reached out to stop the Sheriff’s blow.

Instead he recognized the taste of blood and flesh. The cold-sweat of trapped prey sliding along his tongue.

 

**_“P-Poppy…I’m so hungry...”_ **

****

Gil didn’t hear the scream of agony as he moved. He didn’t pay mind to the absolute horror on the faces surrounding him.

Gil bit deep into the forearm in his sharp clutches. Retching his body from his abdomen, he drew back. Muscle fibers tore and his teeth shaved down to the marrow, as the flesh over the man’s hand peeled off like a meaty glove. Only the literal bones were left behind.

Gil shook his head violently, spraying blood over the crowd and shredding the man’s flesh before swallowing it whole.

He looked up at the mob; red smeared across his predatory smirk to match his eyes. His gaze moved from person to person, until he found the young man. Gil’s thundering heart stopped dead in his chest.  The young man was bent over the wailing form of the hand’s donor. He was trying unsuccessfully to comfort him.

Gil did not know him. His face was not the one he’d worn mere seconds ago.

Air barely filled Gil’s lungs enough to breathe his name. “L-!”

Gil’s canines pierced his tongue as his jaws were slammed shut by the force of a blow to the side of his head.

His vision briefly clouded and Gil closed his eyes to stave off the nausea.

“Get him down! I want this animal in chains and **bolted** to the wall of that cabin. And I want it now! I’ll take over his interrogation. He’s obviously far too dangerous to be out in the open!”

Gil recognized the sound of footsteps rushing to the massive pine tree and seconds later he crashed to the ground.

The **wet** ground.

He lay bound in a wide pool of liquid and as the coppery smell reached through his murky mind, he realized it was blood.

An amount that would require draining an entire human body to produce.

Gil’s eyes snapped open, directly into those of a bled-out corpse. The film over the milky, unseeing eyes cracked as the boy smiled and reached up a sallow hand to cup Gil’s cheek adoringly.

**_“Hello, Poppy. I’ve missed you.”_ **

****

*******

 

The doors slammed behind Matthew with an accompanying click of a lock.

"I'm sorry, Matthew." Fritz said from the other side of the door. "I want to save him too. But, I won't waste his sacrifice and get you and Ludwig killed in the process. There is much more at stake in this than just his life."

Fritz moved away from the door and Matthew screamed out his frustration until his throat grew sore. The wolves and Kuma took up his cry from their own prison in the shed next to his.

After a while he just flopped down on the dirt floor and fumed like a despondent child. Tears of frustration and anger stung the corners of his eyes.

_Okay. So **maybe** telling the top General in the King's army to go fuck himself wasn't my best idea ever._

Blatantly disobeying him in front of his people by attempting to mount Kuma, fully intending to ride him to the palace, and demanding Fritz escort him probably didn't help either.

He wouldn't take it back, though. He'd said what he was thinking and spoken true.

He **was not** apologizing.

Still, his sitting there grumbling about his current situation didn't fix it. He needed to get out of the locked storage shed, and he needed to get to the Crown Prince.

Sitting up from his inelegant flop on the dirt floor, he took a measure of his options. He knew without trying, the door wouldn't open easily. Fritz didn't get to his station by being stupid. He would have made sure the lock on the door was a good one.

That left two options. Either find another exit, or find something in the storage shed to break down the door.

As there was only one door and no visible windows, that left only one solution.

"Option two it is."

Matthew made his way to the back of the shed. It was mostly used for storing tools and grain sacks or food stuffs. However, a wall of crates lined the back wall. Their contents unknown.

Matthew spent a few moments looking over the tools hanging on the wall. Much to his disappointment, a field sickle or scythe were not present among the instruments. There was however, a few smaller knives and gardening tools. Nothing was either long enough or sharp enough the break the lock through the sliver of opening between the doors. He supposed he could spend a few hours trying to remove the hinges from the doors with the tools assembled. But, he didn't have time to waste when Gil was in danger.

He turned to the crates along the back wall.

_Please, **please** have something._

He trotted over and using a knife off the wall, started opening crates.

His hopes withered as he opened more and more boxes.

Matthew didn’t find much. Most of it was old antiques or materials for the household. Bolts of cloth, extra furniture and the like.

He felt the tears flooding back as he made it to the last row of crates. He **needed** a way out.

He climbed to the top of the row and pulled off the first crate. As he lowered the crate down to his level, something teased him out of the corner of his eye. He set down the crate and looked back to the section of wall previously hidden by the crate. It was too dark to see much, but as he ran his hand along the wall's surface, he made a **very** welcome discovery.

His hand traced the pattern of a boarded window frame; a slight breeze leaking through the flimsy covering to tickle his fingers.

A wide and cheeky grin plastered itself across his face. Matthew carefully reached up and clasped the rafters maybe two feet above his head. Lifting himself up and between them, he leveled his feet with the window, and kicked.

It was almost sad how the old and weathered wood gave way under his heels. A few hearty kicks and Matthew was pushing himself free from his captivity. Feet first and onto the adjoining roof.

Making sure his black wolfen cloak didn't catch on his way out, he padded his way across the roof. A quick sniff told him he was on the roof of the stable.

_Oooohhhhh._ A devious gleam entered his eyes. _This will do nicely._

He made his way to the edge of the roof and making sure no one was present; dropped down.

Entering the stables, he made his way down the center aisle. Carefully scanning the stalls for a mount.

He paused and grinned evilly at the last stall in the row. Looking up at the grey warhorse before him, he made his choice.

_Well, if I'm gonna be hanged for horse stealing, it might as well be for a General's warhorse._

Taking only the bridal and bit, Matthew mounted the monstrosity bare-back and ran him out of the stable and onto the road at a full gallop.

The yards' sole occupant, Alfred, dropped the food tray in his hands in the wake of Matthew's impromptu heist.

 

*******

It was late afternoon by the time Matthew made his way through the Capital City of Brandenburg. Slowly, but surely making he approached the Kingdoms opulent Government Hub.

The Palace itself made up a very tiny portion of the actual structure. Multiple government buildings surrounded the actual court and royal chambers in the Hubs' center. Beyond them was an array of military barracks, servant’s quarters, maintenance buildings, and stables. Encircling the entire lot of it, was a massive stone wall. Complete with security forces and gates to deter any less than noble intentions.

_Kinda like mine......_

Studying the wall, Matthew thought over how he was going the get in. He didn't have a seal or papers to warrant admission past the two guards checking at the gate. The wall was **much** too high to climb and there were guards posted atop it besides.

Even more of a problem, he still had the damn warhorse with him. A regular quarter horse wouldn't have been noted in front of any of the stables outside the wall. A warhorse, however required special care and a skilled stable hand to take care of it. Someone only employed at a royal stable. In short, he couldn't leave the horse and sneak in. He would have to walk it right past the guards at the gate and leave it at the royal stables before finding Prince Ludwig.

_Hah......I should really learn to control my pettiness. Gil, would have thought this through and chosen a different mount......._

The random thought made it feel like a stone weighed down his chest. He needed to get to Prince Ludwig and he needed to get to him as soon as possible.

_It's already been two days. He might be dead already....._

Matthew shook his head and refused to think any further on that train of thought. The man had lived through five years of Fodder hell. He could handle Carlos and his goons.

_Except he didn’t **want** to live this time......_

Matthew bit down on his cheek hard and told himself to focus. Lightly pressing his heels into the horse’s sides, he ordered it forward into the stream of carts and servants bringing food and other materials into the palace. As they made their way forward and slowly through the gate, Matthew tried his best to be as inconspicuous as possible.

It didn't work.

"Hey, you! Stop!"

Matthew looked up under the cover of his hood. A guardsman was staring straight at him as he and his fellow guards waded their way through the throng of wagons and people.

"You! Where did you get that horse?"

Matthew couldn't answer, couldn't move. Sheer panic went through his body. They had caught him. He hadn't even made it into the palace and they'd found him! He was never going to speak to the Prince and Gil was going to die.

In an instant they were upon him. In his hesitation, a guard snuck up behind him and dragged him out of the saddle to pin him to the ground. Another guard grabbed the reigns of the horse and led it to the side. A few other guards surrounded them with weapons drawn.

Matthew squeezed his eyes shut tight and winced as his head met the cobbled road. His hood flew back off his face and the men around him gasped.

Matthew peeked an eye open to see what had startled them. The guard pinning him down held a wide-eyed expression of equal parts surprise and exasperation. The others all had similar looks of their faces.

**"..... _Alfred?!?!_ ”**

Matthew opened both eyes wide and nearly groaned at his own stupidity.

_Of course. Why didn't **I** think of that?!?!?!_

Reacting instantly, he morphed his mouth into the most stupid, happy grin he could manage and raised his hand to ruffle the guard’s hair.

"Who's a good guard? Who's a good guard? You are! You are!"

The entire company let out a heavy breath as one. With it, the atmosphere changed instantly from tense to annoyed and familiar.

The guard who pinned him was so not impressed. “Gott verdammt it, Alfred! This is **not** funny! What are you doing riding General Fredrick’s horse? Where’s Star?”

Matthew widened his eyes up at the guard above him; his mouth pouted. “Ah….come on man. I was just testing yah! Gotta make sure you’re on top of your game and all.”

Briefly spying the insignia on the man’s chest, he assumed he was their leader. No other guard bore it on their uniform.

Matthew gave the man the biggest shit eating grin he could manage.

The captain scowled down at him, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Hah. I’m not gonna thank you for it. If anything you are leading us all to an early retirement. But, seriously. Where is your horse? And how in verflucht are you riding, Hans? You’ve been trying to get him to let you ride him for months and now after a week away it’s suddenly possible? What the heck? And why are you wearing **that** instead of your assigned uniform?”

_Hans? Ah, that must be the warhorses’ name. And Star?_

Matthew automatically thought of his brother’s mount with its white stockings and the perfect star on its forehead amongst its’ chestnut coloring.

_Pft! Figures he’d name it that._

Matthew glanced down at what he was wearing. A plain shirt and trousers, along with some serviceable boots Fritz had given him.

And Gil’s black wolfen cloak. Proof of his Alpha status. His reward for saving Matthew’s life.

_Well, other than me._

His heart did a little hiccup as he ran his hands along the onyx pelt.

Looking up at the guards surrounding him, he held it out for them to inspect. “Isn’t it beautiful?! My little bro Mattie made it for me! I just couldn’t **not** wear it after he worked so hard on it! Star lost a shoe on the road back. The farrier is fitting him now back at the old man’s estate. And as for me riding Hans….”

He grinned even harder, his mouth nearly cracking under the weight of the foreign derpy tilt he forced it into. “A hero like me will never give up and win the day!”

**_THWACK!!!_ **

“Oooowww!”

Matthew looked up at the Captain of the Guard. His mouth crinkled into a pout and crocodile tears formed in his eyes. “Why’d ya do that? I was just trying to help you guys out.”

The man snorted. “You know better than to call Feldmarschall General Frederick an old man. He is your Master. Show him some respect. And you are **not** being helpful. In fact, you’ve caused the opposite. So, please tell me you are actually here for a reason and not just to hold up the line.”

He pointed behind Matthew, to the growing line of people awaiting admission passed the gate.

Matthew turned back toward him and quickly searched his mind for an excuse. Going with the most believable pile of bullshit he could on such short notice, he told him with a completely straight face. “Old man-I mean, General Frederick-asked me to go check his office for any missives that arrived while he was gone. So I came.”

The Captain slowly raised an eyebrow in obvious skepticism and suspicion. “The Feldmarschall General. Sent **you** to retrieve his missives. His **confidential** and **extremely crucial** missives?”

_Ah, shit! Even I wouldn’t trust my brother with the laundry let alone important correspondence for running the kingdom!_

Fuck it, he’d just have to brazen his way through it. He sniffed indelicately as if he was truly offended. “Ah, **come on**! Why are you being so mean to me?!?! I even convinced Hans to let me ride him! Now I have to convince you too?!?!

Even Matthew cringed internally at the whine in his voice. _So much for my dignity….._

The man stood up and sighed as if the trials of this world were simply too much. Matthew sat up and also stood as he replied. “Hah. **Fine.** I don’t have time for this. I have a gate to run. I know you’re only trying to help, but **please** stop trying to test the defenses. Our nerves can’t handle your enthusiasm.”

Matthew grinned goofily as the other guardsmen chuckled at what their leader said. “Aww! Come on man! A hero helps out his fellow heroes no matter what!”

The man in the middle of running a hand down the bridge of his nose in annoyance stopped mid stroke and glared Matthew down through his fingers. “No. Seriously. Hans has already been taken to the royal stables. Just go get the missives for your Master, Alfred. And by the power of all the Gods, maybe you won’t set the palace on fire while you’re doing it.”

“In his defense he’s only done it twice this month. He’s improving.”

Matthew’s eyes bugged out of his skull involuntarily at the comment from a guardsman at the Captains’ side.

“He’s been absent for a week, so it doesn’t count,” another added.

The Captain held up his hand to stop all talking and closed his eyes as if praying for deliverance.

_Actually, he probably is…._

“Enough. Alfred, get going. You’ve held up the line long enough.”

Matthew drew up in a mock and jovial salute. “Aye aye, Captain!”

Another exasperated huff and snickers accompanied his retreat away from the wall.

 

*******

Matthew was dying.

Without a doubt, the fluids inside his body would quickly be depleted and he would pass out permanently with a corpselike stillness.

_Alfred…..I swear to all the Gods, if I survive this…..I’ll starve you to death._

A form of swift poetic justice. Especially considering Matthew’s current position.

Trapped in the communal privy. Bent over and puking up so much, his bones were unhinging from the force of his throes.

Upon entering the palace, Matthew had gotten lost. He could’ve stopped someone to ask for directions as Alfred, but he didn’t want to take the risk interacting with others. He didn’t know the relationships Alfred had with others in the palace, or how much knowledge people had of his brother and his mannerisms. He was rusty at impersonating his twin and frankly almost anything could tip them off that something was different about him.

So instead he’d wandered around like he owned the place. Trying unsuccessfully to locate the Prince.

Until he’d wandered into the kitchens. Happening upon his brothers’ self-appointed guardian angel and Matthew’s worst nightmare.

 Agathe. Head Cook in his Majesties Palace.

The Nordlys woman had apparently made it her personal mission to care for Alfred and satisfy his brothers’ appetite.

His **excessive** appetite.

To his complete and utter horror, the woman had promptly sat him down and presented him with a **platter** of nearly three dozen confectionaries she called Kanelsnegls. Why someone thought coating dough in sugar and then drowning it in white frosting was a good idea he had no idea.

The same color now bleaching the interior of the privy.

He should have asked for directions. He should have taken the risk.

But he didn’t, so he found himself in a **very** unfavorable position. Sitting on a stool in the Palace Kitchens. In the presence of the most saintly woman to have ever existed. Being stared down by a towering plater of literal cavities.

So he did the only thing he could’ve done in his situation.

He ate them.

Every.

Single.

One.

He’d shoved every last one down his gullet, one right after the other. He’d stood up from the stool and thanked the beaming woman. He’d turned and waddled through the door and out of the kitchens.

He’d dashed for the nearest public privy, and had promptly stayed there for the last half hour.

Dying.

“I’m going to kill you, Alfred. Just you wait!”

*Barf*

“When this is all over, I’ll tie you up and trap you in the tunnel under the cabin!”

*Puke*

“I’ll make nothing but venison stew, while you starve to death in your inky grave!”

*Retch*

**“FUCK!!!!!”**

Eventually, Matthew’s insides could give no more and he dry heaved for long minutes. Slowly, coming down from his impending black-out.

***KNOCK*KNOCK***

“Alfred. Come out here now. I know you’re in there.” A deep, gravely, and **very** unimpressed voice called through the door.

_That’s it. Forget the tunnel. I’m making him **watch**._

“Who is it?” He called back through the door.

“It’s Lars. And don’t even think about running away from me this time. You’re trapped in there with nowhere to run.” The voice groused.

_Oh, **fabulous.**_

“I’ll be right out. A Hero never runs away!”

“You’d have to be a Hero first.” He snarked.

**_Oh_ ** _…..I like you. If only you weren’t being a pain in my ass._

Matthew put on an indignant and hurt mask as he opened the door.

And froze.

Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t how much the man in front of him **intimidated** him.

He was young, probably in his mid-to-late twenties. His dirty-blonde hair rose into pointed spikes atop a head above broad shoulders and a well-muscled body. A leather belt encircled his waist. A field saber with a lion adorning the wooden hilt hung from it at his side.

None of this scared Matthew as much as the dark scowl directed at him from below a small vertical scar on his forehead.

Or the scarf.

The scarf freaked Matthew out.

_It…It just looks weird._

And all of it was directing hostility at him in waves.

_Absa-frigging-lutly fantastic._

Matthew drew himself up and beamed a dorky show of teeth up at the unhappy individual.

“What’s up, Lars?”

The man’s eyes narrowed further. _Oh this is going to be fun…._

“Well, Alfred. I **was** going to inquire about this-,” he held up a crumpled excuse for what **might** have once been a document. “But, I was way-layed by poor Agathe, there.”

He turned and Matthew could see the woman standing in the doorway to the Kitchens with an apprehensive and worried frown on her face.

Matthew winced.

“She said you’d sequestered yourself in the privy for quite some time after eating some of her food. She thinks she’s poisoned you.”

_She did._

Matthew shook his head and turned to Agathe, calling out to her and waving an over excited arm. “Don’t worry, beautiful! It wasn’t your food! I dropped a piece of jerky in the dirt earlier and ate it anyway! Your food was delicious!”

Agathe waved back with a small relieved smile and returned back into the kitchens.

Matthew turned back to Lars as she left. The man held a truly disgusted and purely horrified expression on his face.

Matthew might not be the only one to use the privy for something other than a dump today.

Matthew opened his mouth to tease Lars as his brother would do, but was cut off before the words made it past his lips.

Lars raised his palm up in a halting motion. “No. No, Alfred. I don’t want to hear about it. I don’t want to hear anything come out of your mouth except an explanation for this!”

He held out the supposed document from earlier and shoved it into Matthew’s hands before pointing down at it.

Matthew looked down at the scrap of crumpled paper in panic.

He couldn’t read it.

Not only was he illiterate, but it the page was clearly written by either a barnyard fowl.

Or his brother.

He was utterly and royally fucked.

Matthew gripped the page with clutched hands and didn’t meet Lars’s angry eyes.

He was caught.

Lars bent down to glare into Matthew’s downturned eyes. Understanding dawning in them.

“You can’t read this can you?”

Matthew flinched, but didn’t answer. Lars didn’t need him to.

The man rose back to his full height and let out the most put-upon sigh Matthew had ever heard.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised. Your penmanship is so bad, it stands to reason even **you** can’t read it either. It’s supposed to be a record of how much you’ve spent with Royal Credit on food and supplies while out in the field.”

_Yup. I’m most assuredly fucked._

Matthew squirmed uncomfortably. “I-ah. Well, you see….-!”

Lars rolled his eyes. “Forget it. Follow, me. You can explain to Vash yourself why his records are so mucked up.”

He turned and started down the hall opposite of the kitchens; fully expecting Matthew to follow him.

Matthew panicked and willed his feet to run him in the opposite direction. He was no stranger to running from danger, but the Dark Wood wasn’t in front of him this time. Only a labyrinth of palace corridors and unknowns. Filled with palace inhabitants that scared Matthew far more than any wild beast.

In the end, his utter panic was a moot point. Before his feet could come to a decision, an arm snaked out from behind and pulled him back and through the walls into utter darkness.

He opened his mouth to shout in surprise, but the hand around his waist had a counterpart. It coiled around his throat and over his mouth. Effectively silencing any sound he tried to make.

In fact, the only sound to be heard was Lars as he shouted in annoyance at Matthew’s involuntary escape.

 

*******

 

** Danish Translations: **

1\. Nordlys = Northern Light (Nordlys Kingdom)

2\. Kanelsnegl = Cinnamon Snail (aka Cinnamon Roll)

 

** German Translations: **

  1. Das Biest = The Beast
  2. Verdammt = Damn / Bloody Hell
  3. Gott = God
  4. Verflucht = Damn / Bloody Hell



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello All! Challenged here! *sigh* Why is it that every time I write a chapter, it ends up being WAY longer than I initially plan it to be? This chapter and the next were originally supposed to be just one big chapter, but we decided to split it so you guys could get an update quicker. You guys said you wanted more flashbacks, and we told you we had something planned special for you. Did we deliver? How them heart strings doin? *grins evilly* You should know better than to tease us. And it ain’t over yet! Let us know what you thought in the comments section and hopefully we’ll see you guys soon!


	21. Chapter #19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello All! Challenged here! Alright guys, here we go again. More angst, and more feels. It’s a bumpy ride and it’s gonna get worse before it gets better, but trust us when we say it’ll be worth it. Enjoy the chapter! You know the drill, translations and more at the bottom and give us a shout out in the comments section of what you think! Or to just say hi. It’s always appreciated. (^^)

Matthew couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t see.

Arms snaked around him. Dragging him deeper and deeper into the darkest depths. He struggled, and the limbs dug harder into his side and face. Cutting off any intake of air from both his mouth and nose with a gloved hand.

Minutes passed, and he was taken farther and farther into the inky labyrinth. His captor completely and utterly halting any chance of his escape.

He was on the cusp of blacking out from lack of air, when his mysterious kidnapper pulled him into a place he instinctively knew was a wider space. More hidden from the rest of the palace than the secret corridors he’d just been brought through.

“Pst. Bro.” The voice whispered.

Matthew immediately stopped struggling and narrowed his eyes. _Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me!_

“Mattie, I’m gonna let ya go. We **really** aren’t supposed to be in here, so keep quiet. ‘Kay?”

Matthew nodded slowly in his hold. His anger blotting out any urgency for needed air.

Alfred let down his arms immediately and took a step to Matthew’s side to face him. Directly into Matthew’s blind punch.

***CRACK***

**“UUUUMMMMNNNN!!!!”**

Matthew’s eyes adjusted slightly in the dark and watched as his brother stepped back and covered his bleeding nose with both hands. A satisfied smirk on his face.

“What’d you do that for?!?!?!”

“That’s for Agathe.” Matthew glared harder. “And her sweets.”

Alfred stopped dead in his agony and turned to stare at Matthew in dread and fear. His hands fell to his sides and his bloody nose ran freely down his face to drip off his chin.

“What about her sweets?”

Matthew grimaced as his brother’s blood dropped onto his chest, staining his white shirt.

“We **really** need to discuss what criteria you use to list your priorities.”

“Mattie. What. Happened. **TO THE SWEETS?!?!”**

His brother stepped forward suddenly to grasp Matthew’s shoulders; smearing blood onto his wolfen cloak.

Matthew made a face and swatted his hands away in disgust.

“Seriously, Al! Calm down about the damn sweets and deal with your nose!”

Alfred rolled his eyes and to Matthew’s surprise pulled out a handkerchief from some unknown place on his person.

 _I didn’t think he even **knew**_ _what a handkerchief was!_

Taking two corners of the cloth, Alfred twisted it by the ends until it resembled a homemade white cigar and shoved both ends into each of his nostrils. He looked like a young bull, not fully grown into his nose ring.

The sight and the way his plugged nose made Alfred’s voice sound, helped curb Matthew’s anger.

But only a little.

“There! I took care of my nose! Now, what happened to Agathe and her sweets?!?!”

Matthew sighed. _I don’t have time for this…._

“I managed to convince the guards I was you coming to pick up some correspondence for Fritz and infiltrated the palace. I was doing fine until I got lost and ended up in the kitchens. Agathe thought I was you and decided she needed to feed me. So, instead of giving me a **normal portion** of sweets, she placed a literal **tower** of pastries in front of me. I was pretending to be you, so I had to eat them all or be found out as an imposter.”

Matthew rubbed his stomach and staved off the involuntary gag reflex the memory of his tower of doom brought on. “I did. But unlike you, my gut isn’t the black pit of no return. I didn’t make it three feet down the hallway, before the imprisoned sweets made a break for freedom.”

During Matthew’s explanation, his brother’s expression had gradually contorted from that of confusion and worry to anger and hopelessness. He genuinely looked like someone had taken away his most precious possession.

“Seriously, Mattie?!?! You went and ate all the sweets she promised me when I got back and then spewed them all back up?!?! Those pastries are my favorite! Not cool, Bro!”

Matthew made a pointed look at his brother. “I’d still be bent over filling the privy with them, if someone named Lars hadn’t pulled me out. Apparently, Agathe stopped him and asked for his assistance thinking she’d poisoned me. I will not be the villain here, just because my stomach only holds a **normal** capacity.”

Alfred’s head whipped to face him so fast, the bloody cloth ring up his nose nearly dislodged itself at the motion.

“You talked to Lars?”

His voice was hard and serious. It immediately put Matthew on edge. His brother didn’t **do** serious.

“Yes. I talked with him. Why?”

At his answer, Alfred immediately began shaking his head.

“That’s not good, Bro. Did he seem suspicious at all? What did you talk about?”

Alfred waited with fists on his hips for Matthew’s answer.

Matthew crossed his arms and returned his stare defensively.

“He seemed annoyed that I was causing a commotion at the privy and worrying poor Agathe. He was also looking for you. He wanted an explanation for some report you’d written. I couldn’t read it, but he didn’t seem to notice I couldn’t because I don’t know **how** to. He attributed it to your bad penmanship. Anyway, he was taking me to see someone named Vash when you grabbed me. That’s all I know.”

Alfred raised both the heels of his hands and rubbed them into his eye sockets in frustration. A deep guttural groan rocked his body.

_Oh, that’s not encouraging….._

“Al? What is it.”

His brother lowered his hands and scratched the back of his neck in frustration. “Out of all the people you could have run into, it just **had** to be those two.”

Alfred grabbed Matthew’s arm and started fast-walking down a corridor opposite to the one they’d used to enter the hidden room. “Vash is a whiney grump if someone messes up his accounts. Or looks at his sister too long. And Lars? It just had to be him with you when I grabbed you. He probably thinks I made a run for it and am hiding somewhere so I won’t get yelled at.”

“Oh? And why would he think that?”

Matthew looked sideways at his brother as he asked this; knowing full well how Alfred used to run off to avoid punishment for some of his clumsier attempts at being the village hero.

Alfred didn’t meet his gaze. “D-doesn’t matter. But you can bet he’s searching everywhere for me and won’t stop until he’s found me. Including these tunnels. If they find us here, it won’t be pretty. Only the royal family and their personal body-guards are supposed to know about them, but that won’t stop him from searching them anyway. We need to hurry and get you to the Prince. I’ll have to run to Fritz’s office and then intercept Lars before he brings his search here. If he asks where I went, I can tell him I had to pick up the correspondence on his orders and didn’t want to forget. And to change clothes of course.”

Matthew was surprised. Granted the plan was simple, but it was a good one. He usually didn’t associate good ideas with his brother’s planning skills.

Alfred noticed the surprised look on his face and frowned at him. “What is it, Bro?”

Matthew looked away in embaracement, but couldn’t go far with Alfred still dragging him down the labyrinth of hidden corridors.

“I-ah. I just wasn’t expecting you to come up with such a good plan. N-not on the first try.”

Alfred rolled his eyes and looked forward again, picking up the pace as he did. “Come on, Bro. I know the wick in my candle is short, but it still burns just fine.”

His voice portrayed his hurt where his face couldn’t in the inky darkness.

“N-no! Al, that’s not what I meant-!”

“Yes. It is.” Alfred didn’t look at Matthew and kept moving. “It’s okay, Mattie. I’m a hero, not a saint. I know I’m not perfect and will make mistakes. I’ll just make sure I learn from them instead. And own up to them.”

He turned back to his brother with a decidedly too bright smile.

“Like going and apologizing to Vash for not keeping up with my expense receipts.”

Alfred didn’t exactly look happy at the idea. In fact, he looked terrified.

“Um, Al? Are you okay? I mean, getting a tongue lashing can’t be that bad?”

Alfred turned that not so encouraging smile Matthew’s way. “Don’t worry about me, Bro. Vash and Lars are pretty scary, but nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

“Um…. I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

Alfred shrugged and kept walking. “We need to do this fast. I can distract them for a little while, but not forever.”

Alfred turned a final corner and made extra quiet steps toward a dead end before stopping in front of the back wall. He hushed his voice into a whisper. “Okay. I’ll open the door here. It leads directly into Prince Ludwig’s bedchamber. Once you’re in the room I’ll close it behind you. When you’re done, just push the wall in the same place you came through, it should open easily. Follow this wall toward the stables. We’ll meet up there and head out together. The guard’s shift change will happen shortly, so we shouldn’t have any trouble at the gate. Keep your hand on the wall, taking two rights and then a left. You should find the outline of a door on the wall after the last turn around shoulder height.”

Alfred took Matthew’s hand and showed him the outline of the door in front of him to demonstrate what he should look for.

“Listen to make sure no-one is there and hide in the hayloft until I come find you. Or you find me. Any questions?”

“Just one.”

Matthew’s voice also lowered to a whisper.  In his anger over the pastry poisoning, he’d failed to question why his brother was here. He’d failed to realize he was putting his brother in danger by enlisting him. But, he’d been dragged through the labyrinth before he could question or reprimand him.

Now he would rectify that.

“Why are you here? Why are you going against your Master’s orders and helping me? If you’re caught, you could lose your apprenticeship. Or worse. You don’t even like, Gil! So why? Why did you come after me?”

Alfred smiled serenely at his brother. “Mattie. Do you know why I want to be a Hero?”

Matthew frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Alfred chuckled. “We grew up without any parents, all alone in that village. We’re the only family we have, and I wanted to protect that. I wanted to protect **you**. You are the entire reason why I want to be a hero. **You** are the dream.”

Alfred reached up to ruffle Matthew’s hair. “You’re in love with him, Mattie. He is your heart now. When I said I’d protect you I meant **all** of you. Not just the convenient parts.”

Whatever Matthew had been expecting, it hadn’t been the cannon blast his brother had just fired. He opened his mouth to say something. Anything considering his brother’s revelation.

He’d always assumed his brother had wanted to be a hero, so he could be the center of attention. To be loved by the masses like he always was.

For selfish reasons.

To learn his true reason was the complete opposite, was a brutal blow to Matthew’s image of who his brother was.

It stunned Matthew to realize he didn’t actually know the person his brother was.

And he felt ashamed of himself.

He’d dragged his brother into this, and put him in danger.

If they were caught, nothing good would come of it.

Matthew opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Alfred’s hand.

“No, Mattie. I know what you’re thinking, and you need to stop. I made the decision to come after you and help you when I saw you take off on Hans. **I** chose to come help you, and **I** did so knowing the consequences. So, stop feeling guilty for putting me in danger.”

Alfred grinned. “Not everything is about you.”

Matthew raised a single eyebrow at his brother through his sense of Deja-vu. **_Really_** _, Al?_

His brother just grinned goofily back at him. “Come on. You have a Prince to wake up.”

Alfred gently and in utter silence pushed on the wall. A barely audible puff was heard, and the secret door opened.

Matthew stepped lightly through the opening and Alfred started to close the door behind him.

“Oh, and be careful **how** you wake him. He might be a morning person, but he **does not** like to be woken up early.”

Matthew turned in alarm to ask his brother what he should do, but the door was already closed.

He was in the Prince’s bedchamber.

And he was utterly alone with him.

 

*******

Matthew paused and stayed still. Waiting to hear Alfred’s muffled shuffles as he retreated down the corridors and toward Fritz’s office. Still unmoving, he waited for his eyes to adjust to the different moonlit lighting the giant bay window provided.

For once his brother hadn’t bungled something up in his enthusiasm. He’d let Matthew directly into the sleeping chamber as opposed to one of the anti-chambers that made up the Prince’s suites.

 Perusing the room, Matthew took in his surroundings.

The big bay window took in enough light, he could see most of the room in an iridescent grey. It was lavish, yet simple. A massive four poster bed took up center stage in the expanse of space atop a raised platform. Curtains and drapes made up a canopy over the plush mattress; matching those over the bay window.

Three not-so-secret doors dotted the walls.

One in the direction of the other anti-chambers and main wing hallway, while the others framed the side tables on either side of the bed. One cracked open to peek in on a private privy and massive wooden washtub. Matthew assumed the last one led to a large built-in wardrobe.

A stone fireplace faced opposite the bed. Embers currently winking out behind their metal grate. Tapestries of various scenes hung sparsely against the walls. The Royal Family coat of arms hung above the fireplace.

A book rested on one of the side tables beside an object Matthew had never seen before. It appeared to be two thin pieces of rounded glass, wrapped in fine pieces of curved wire. What they were for, Matthew couldn’t fathom.

He moved his attention back to the bed and his focus for coming here.

Prince Ludwig.

Matthew stepped forward delicately and crept around the side of the bed closest to the bay window.

The Prince lay turned away from him in the bed. Curled under a feather down blanket and surrounded by equally puffy pillows. The one excessive luxury Matthew could find in the entire room. If it wasn’t for the small tuft of pale hair peeking out from the sea of cushiness, he probably wouldn’t know the Prince was there at all.

Matthew halted on his way around the bed. Now how was he going to do this?

_I can’t let him yell out to the guards undoubtedly waiting outside his chamber doors. Maybe I should just tackle him and cover his mouth before he can do anything?_

Matthew mentally drew up the image he’d drawn of Gil’s cute little Luddy.

_Yah, I think I can take him._

Decision made, he turned and backed away toward the bay window. Once there, he turned back towards the bed and taking a running start, leaped onto the sleeping Prince.

One second he’d landed on the bed.

On something very large and **very** hard.

The next he’d been swatted backwards across the room. Through the air to slam against the far wall he’d just run from. Cracking his head into the immoveable wall and losing his breath for the second time that evening.

His feet left the floor as a hand gathered up both of his own and pinned them above his head; lifting Matthew up in the process.  Another hand held a long, thin knife. The tip pointing into his ribs, directly up toward his heart.

“Attentäter. You insult me. Only a coward would kill his mark in his sleep.”

Hot breath heated Matthew’s eyelids as the young man bore down on him. His face mere inches from his. Towering over Matthew’s pinned form and crowding him back against the wall.

Matthew blinked open his eyes and looked up into the face of his captor.

**_What. The. FUCK!!!!_ **

The man before him was almost completely alien from Matthew’s mental image. He’d imagined a slim young man, maybe around his height, with short-cut blonde hair and striking blue eyes.

Only the eyes and sleep-mussed hair matched up.

The man crowding him against the wall was **jacked**. He towered over Matthew at what had to be close to six feet tall. Muscles bulged over his shirtless frame. A ferocious scowl edged itself into his glaring face like a permanent fissure. The fierce slanting eyebrows only added to it’s overall effect. His lips appeared of stone, pressed into such a tight line.

_Seriously, Gil? What part of me could possibly remind you of **that**._

Matthew coughed and wheezed, trying to get air as the Prince spoke again. His voice hard with suppressed rage.

“You have failed, Attentäter. You have no chance of escape. Your life is forfeit either way. But, while you have none, I am a man of honor and mercy. Tell me who hired you, and I will spare you any torture or a public execution. I will end you here, as quickly and painlessly as possible.”

Matthew’s eyes widened in shock. _Not good. This is getting way out of hand._

Matthew shook his head frantically as he tried to bring in enough air to talk.

“You refuse to give up your benefactor? I suppose even the lowest dregs still have some loyalty.”

Matthew shook his head harder and wheezed around his words. “N-No……*wheeze*……not that……*wheeze*........not……assassin.”

Prince Ludwig arched a disbelieving and angry brow down at him. “Lying will not save you from the executioners’ blade.”

To emphasis his point, he pressed his blade a little harder into his ribs. “You have one more chance to tell me who hired you. I suggest you don’t waste it.”

“…Not….assassin-!”

The Prince turned to call for the guards.

“Wait!”

He turned back and scowled impatiently.

Matthew gathered more air in raggedly. “I’m not an assassin.” *wheeze* “I came to talk to you.”

His face darkened even further. “I’ve heard enough. I gave you your chance and you blew it on useless lies. Anyone who wishes to voice a concern knows they only have to schedule an audience with me. Not attack me while I’m sleeping.”

He turned once more to call for the guards.

*wheeze* “I can’t if you brother’s the topic.” *wheeze*

Everything stopped. The Prince froze at his words and where the air around them was heavy before, it now became insufferable. Prince Ludwig turned his head to look at him, while his body stayed facing the door to his anti-chambers. His eyes held an edge of predatory intent so similar to Gil’s, Matthew couldn’t help but recognize this intimidating man as Gil’s younger brother.

“What did you just say?”

Matthew met the Princes eyes and finally regaining his lost breath, spoke clearly to Gil’s last chance of salvation.

“Gilbert is going to die, Ludwig. And you are the only one left with the power to save him.”

 

*******

 

Ludwig stared in stunned disbelief and incomprehension at the blonde man under his hands. His would-be assassin peered up at him with pleading, yet wild eyes.

Even in the pale moon-light, Ludwig could see the violet eyes boring into his held desperation in their depths.

They needed something from him and he didn’t trust his captives’ words because of it.

_I know he’s alive, but there’s no way he’d reveal his identity to anyone. The risk is to high, and mein Bruder doesn’t take risks._

He didn’t trust this person or his words. This was a trap.

“Mein Bruder died ten years ago.”

The young man shook his head once in firm denial. “No. He lives. Though, not for much longer if you don’t help me.”

Ludwig sneered. He would not believe some strange intruders words alone. “Prove it, then. Prove to me you know mein Bruder better than me. Because, the Bruder I know would never send someone in his place. He would never do anything to compromise himself. Or me, for that matter. I don’t believe you know him. He wouldn’t have sent you in the first place.”

The blonde startled Ludwig when he let out a lascivious chuckle. “Oh, trust me. I know your brother **much** better than you ever will.”

Ludwig’s eyebrows rose together. The meaning behind those words not lost on him and a light blush dusting his cheeks. _Is he saying he’s East’s Liebhaber?!?!?_

He cut his laugh short and met Ludwig’s eyes with all seriousness. “Reach inside my cloak. You’ll find all the proof you need.”

Ludwig’s’ face scrunched up in skepticism. Still he removed his dagger from his captives’ ribs and twisting it, placed the hilt between his teeth. If the dummkopf tried to attack him, he’d twist his head and gut the young man’s eyes from his skull.

Tentatively, so as not to be cut by a hidden weapon, he reached in to explore the inner pockets of the black cloak.

His search came up empty except for a single object in the hidden pocket in the lining between the cloak’s outer fur and its inner leather lining. The sound of paper crinkling reached his ears as he pulled it loose.

_Letters? Are these their love letters?_

He pulled the stack of parchment free and stilled once more in utter shock. His hands went slightly slack and the young man slipped out of his grip and down to the floor with a thump.

Ludwig paid it no mind. His entire focus on the small, tattered story-book in his hands. Memories flooding behind his eyes unbidden.

_Ludwig wobbled down the stairs to the dungeons, clutching Fritz’s hand for balance in his anguish._

_They’d branded his brother._

_They’d made East a Fodder-Slave because of **him**. _

_It was all his fault. And now his brother was going to pay for it._

_The fact that he was now the next king didn’t even register in his young brain. He didn’t care about that. He just wanted to save his brother._

_But he couldn’t._

_Nothing could save him now. He was lost._

**And it’s my fault.**

_Damp chill clung to the walls and froze their breaths._

_He lost his footing slightly and stumbled. He almost fell, but Fritz grabbed up his shoulders. Stopping him from tumbling down into the pit._

_“It’s alright, Ludwig. I got you.”_

_Ludwig straightened up to his full ten-year-old height._

_He looked up at Fritz with a hopeless gaze. “No, Vati. It’s not.”_

_Fritz grimaced and didn’t answer._

_They once again made their way down the stairs. As they strode deeper and deeper into the earth, the sun left them as well. As if not even the warmth and light of the sun could penetrate the dark reaches of despair below._

_Torches attempted to light their way at the bottom of the staircase. Weak flames flickered tired dances along the unwashed walls before them. The screams of the tortured and deprived ricocheted off the tunnel as they ventured forward._

_Ludwig huddled closer to Fritz as he led him deeper and deeper into the dark. To the Royal Cell._

_Fritz squeezed his shoulder in support. He hadn’t wanted to bring Ludwig here. But, the young prince had insisted. This would probably be the last time he’d see his brother._

_He wanted to tell him he was sorry._

_He wanted to say goodbye._

_They made it to the end of the hall and stood before the last door._

_The Royal Cell._

_Fritz pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door. Taking up a torch from the wall, he opened the door and they walked inside._

_Fritz held up the torch and Ludwig saw his brother for the first time since that morning._

_For the first time since he’d been forced to watch the branding._

_His brother hung up with his ruined back pressed against the dank, filthy wall. Suspended against the wall by chains holding up his arms. Puss and blood dripped from his back down his naked and bruised body. His dirty head lolled forward on his neck at a sharp angle._

_Even from the doorway, Ludwig could pick out the dark spots of gravel covering the back side of this body._

_They’d dragged him to his cell._

_On his ravaged back._

_A harsh hiss of laughter crept into the space between them. His brother did not lift his head. “Keseses. Is it that time already? Am I off to the battlefields?”_

_“No, son. Not yet.”_

_Fritz spoke before Ludwig could whimper out a reply._

_Gil lifted his head in surprise and smiled down at his little brother. “Hey, West.”_

_Ludwig broke down in sobs and rushed his brother. Uncaring in his haste to grab his brother, he wound his arms around his waist and wailed out big, blubbering cries into Gil’s chest._

_“Bruder! I’m so sorry, Bruder! It’s all my fault this happened to you! And now you’re going to die! I’ll never see you again. I’m so sorry, Bruder! This wouldn’t have happened if they hadn’t taken me!”_

_Ludwig continued to scream out his frustration into his brothers’ chest. His tears washing away some of the filth down his torso in dirty streaks._

_Gil started shaking and a soft hissing chuckle ruffled the hair on Ludwig’s head; nuzzling his cheek against his little brother’s hair as he spoke._

_“Kesesese. Ah, Luddy. Who says I’m gonna die? I’m a Fodder Slave, not awaiting execution. You just wait. I’ll escape one day. I’ll get out. Don’t you worry. It’ll take more than this to take out your awesome Bruder.”_

_Fritz took a step forward, then. “Gilbert. I don’t think-!”_

_His brother lifted his cheek from Ludwig’s head and Ludwig knew he was glaring Fritz into silence._

_He nuzzled Ludwig’s head again a moment later. “Let me see your face, kleiner b_ _är.”_

_Ludwig backed up and wiping his eyes looked up at his big brother. His brother grinned at him and Ludwig couldn’t help but smile in response._

_“Ah, there it is. That’s the smile I was looking for.”_

_Ludwig’s smile widened in spite of himself._

_Gil moved his gaze to Fritz then. “Did you bring them?”_

_Ludwig turned to Fritz as he nodded. From within his cloak he pulled out a small wrapped bundle. He unwrapped it to reveal a small black, metal cross pendant and Ludwig’s favorite story-book._

_The one his brother always read to him whenever he came to visit._

_Ludwig turned back to his brother._

_Gil nodded at Fritz curtly._

_He turned his gaze to Ludwig then._

_“Listen very carefully, Luddy. I’m going to escape one day, and when I do I will let you know. Fritz is going to hide my insignia and the book somewhere only we know of. When I escape, it will probably be by faking my own death. I will send Gilbird with my insigne, so you know I’m not really gone.”_

_He paused and narrowed his eyes. His words hard and serious. “But if Gilbird brings you the book, instead of my insigne. I really have died.”_

_Ludwig didn’t question how he would do this, if he was really dead. His young mind just knew his hero would find a way._

_Ludwig’s eyes filled with sorrow once more. “B-Bruder-!”_

_“It’s okay, Luddy. I’m a Bartian, remember? They can’t kill me that easily.”_

_He smiled sweetly at Ludwig then. “Ich liebe dich, Luddy.”_

_Ludwig couldn’t take any more then. Great screaming wails left his throat as he turned and ran out of the cell; tears streaming down his face. But his cries didn’t drown out the last words he heard his brother utter as he fled the dungeons._

**_“Keep him safe, old man. Don’t let my sacrifice be in vain.”_ **

_Ludwig didn’t hear his adopted father’s reply as he made it to the stairs and dashed up and away from the darkness below._

He’d made a vow to himself that day. He’d never be weak again. That no one would be sacrificed in his place. He would become someone who could save his brother from his fate.

Five years later, his brother’s eagle had brought him the black insigne. The one he’d replace his own with and wore around his neck, even now. So his brother would always be with him. Always a constant reminder of his promise.

No story-book ever followed.

Until now.

Ludwig caressed his thumb adoringly over the beloved copy of _Aschenputtel_ held in his fingers.

Removing the dagger from between his teeth, he tossed it and the book gently onto the bed and looked over at the young man patiently waiting for him to gather himself.

“What is your name.”

“Matthew.”

Ludwig raised his eyebrow. “No title or last name?”

Matthew shook his head. “If I have one, I don’t know it.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and popping a hip, raised his own eyebrow. “If you’d quit dissecting my validity and get to the business at hand, it might shortly be Beilschmidt.”

Ludwig’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. A dark blush stained his face.

Looking away, he asked. “Where is he? What’s happened?”

Matthew let out a breath and leaned back against the wall behind him; un-popping his hip and crossing his legs at the ankles.

“We don’t have time for too many details, so I’ll give you the short version. He escaped during a battle and fled into the Dark Woods. He’s managed to eke out a living there for the past five years.”

Ludwig stood there for a moment in angry horror. **_That’s_** _where he’s been all these years?!?!?!_

As much as it hurt to know his Bruder had been so close for so long, it hurt more to think about how he’d not left the Kingdom. Ludwig knew exactly why he hadn’t too. It would have been so much safer for East to defect to one of the other Kingdoms, but he hadn’t. He’d stayed within the Kingdom, so close to the capitol, so he could save Ludwig again should he need it.

_Oh, Bruder……_

He brought up his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose in loving frustration.

Matthew continued over Ludwig’s inner turmoil.

“A few days ago, he was discovered. The Sheriff of the Dark Wood Village has led a mob into the Dark Wood after him. He’s charged him with the imaginary deaths of some villagers. He’s going to kill him under his own perverted version of justice, Prince Ludwig.”

A hard stone of dread snaked frost-bitten fingers around his heart. The implications of the situation hitting home.

_I didn’t receive a report for these deaths. Or a request to launch a hunt for a dangerous magical creature either…._

Both were needed to lawfully kill a magical creature. Not to mention entering the Dark Woods with regular citizens. Normally, a Sheriff would request assistance from the military for such a dangerous mission. Not to mention an order of execution. To execute someone sentient without a written order from the Crown was **beyond** illegal.

Matthew stepped away from the wall and stalked toward him. Ignoring Ludwig’s silent grievances and intent on getting his way.

“The Sheriff holds the authority of the Crown, but you are the Prince. The heir to the throne. You outrank him and can stop him.”

Ludwig held his ground and Matthew stopped right before him. Staring him down and **telling** to do his bidding. A commoner ordering a Prince.

“And you **will** save your brother.”

Ludwig had to give him credit. Matthew had steel.

Though that didn’t remove obstacles before him. There were hidden intricacies and problems to the situation the young blonde didn’t know of.

Yes, he was the Prince. Yes, he out ranked the Sheriff. And yes, he held more authority and could strip the Sheriff of his own. But, as much liberties as the Crown awarded, it also tied his hands in others.

Because of his title, he couldn’t just do whatever he wanted.

He couldn’t move like other people. Others noticed when he was missing.

Others like the King.

If he left for the Dark Wood Village, he would need a reason. He would need proof of the Sheriff’s misconduct to justify his interference. Something that would give just cause to remove him and over rule his decisions.

And even if he got that, he’d need to cover it up. How was he going to convince a village of people that his Bruder didn’t kill those people?

He needed a scapegoat or to find the dead villagers alive.

And even if he did manage to do that, he needed to hide it from the King somehow.

Tie up any loose ends that would make the King suspicious.

Delete any evidence of his disloyalty.

Ludwig turned from Matthew and paced the floor as he worked over the variables in his mind.

He’d gathered many supporters over the years, but it wasn’t enough to protect him from treason. Slowly he’d been working behind the scenes to position his allies to his advantage.

He planned to usurp the King.

But they were not ready. More pieces needed to be positioned and there wasn’t enough time to do it.

He did not have the support behind him to pull it off, and moving too quickly would get everyone executed.

Ludwig stopped pacing and faced Matthew.

He’d trained every day since his Bruder’s sentence to become a man that could save the one who’d saved him. He’d hated himself with every fiber of his being for not being able to protect the one who’d sacrificed himself for him.

And he hated himself now for not being ready when the day had finally come.

He couldn’t make his move prematurely.

He couldn’t answer the call.

“I can’t.”

Matthew rounded on him and got right up in his face.

**“What. Do you mean. You can’t.”**

It was not a question. It was a demand for an explanation.

Ludwig straightened, but didn’t step back. He would not cower or show weakness. No matter how distressed he was over his Bruder’s plight or how much the blonde hellion threw him off. He’d worked hard over the years to build up his stern and awe-inspiring Royal image. Most people were intimidated, if not terrified by him, but not Matthew. In fact, it didn’t seem to faze him at all.

And that perturbed Ludwig.

He would be King one day. He couldn’t rule properly without an iron will. People would not follow him, if they lacked confidence in his leadership.

“Just because I am a Prince, does not mean I am absolute. Yes, I have the authority to over-ride a Sheriffs ruling. But, not without a very obvious and explicit reason. Furthermore, I do not hold the top office over the Kingdoms enforcement. The King does. Any action I took would be reported to him, no matter what I did to cover it up. **Something** would reach him eventually.”

Ludwig leaned down slightly while staring Matthew down; fists on both hips. He needed to understand the situation. The gravity of their circumstances.  “And what do you think will happen when King Aldrich learns mein Bruder still lives?”

Matthew didn’t back down. “Well, fuck you and your damned protocol! He’ll be dead either way, if we don’t do something!”

Ludwig wrinkled his nose in annoyance and rolled his eyes. “I’m not saying I won’t. I’m telling you I need a reason. Do you have evidence that could be used against this Sheriff? Anything at all that would prove his incompetence?”

Matthew looked like he was barely keeping himself from self-combusting. He was obviously losing patience rather fast. “I’ve literally just snuck into your chambers. To tell you. The Royal Prince. That Sheriff Machado has abused his power. Has taken a mob to hunt down an innocent man. And will more than likely execute him. I am a witness. What more do you need?”

“Can you prove he didn’t do it?”

 **“Excuse me?!?!”** Matthew nearly shrieked his voice was so high in outrage.

Ludwig didn’t give Matthew room to misunderstand. “Can you prove that mein Bruder didn’t kill those people? Anything other than your word to prove his innocence? Because as it stands, it’s your word against the word of a Sheriff in his Majesties service. The reality is that he outranks you, and because of his station, his word will always be believed instead of yours. It doesn’t matter who is truthfully right. He will **always** be seen as speaking true, despite any oppositions you present.”

Ludwig raised his fists from his hips and clasped Matthews’ stiff shoulders. “I cannot leave the palace without a reason to do so. If I have some concrete evidence to hint at this Sheriffs negligence or mistreatment of his position, I can go out under the pretense of an investigation. Once there I can put a stop to any of his decrees. Do you have **anything** with you that could be used against him?”

Matthew’s glare shifted, and Ludwig could tell by the pained look in his eyes that any hopes he’d had of the young man giving him a pretense to an investigation were futile.

Ludwig released Matthew’s shoulders, turned, and grabbing up his reading spectacles on the way, walked into his wardrobe.

He spoke to Matthew as he quickly changed out of his sleep pants and into something more presentable. “I don’t know how you got passed the guards the first time, but it won’t happen a second. Stay here and keep yourself hidden. I’ll ask the palace staff to forego my chamber cleaning until I say. No one will come in. I’ll go to the records library and have a look at the reports the Sheriff **did** remember to file. If I can find a discrepancy serious enough, it will give me reason to investigate the incident in question personally.”

He didn’t hear Matthew move in the other room. The only sound he **did** hear was the despair of hopes dashed in his voice.

“It’s already been two days. If he isn’t dead already, he will be soon. He plans to die, Ludwig. He doesn’t **want** to survive this. He would rather die than risk any of the people he loves. Than to compromise your safety…. Or mine.”

Matthew paused, and Ludwig rushed to pull on his boots as he spoke again.

“I’m glad he isn’t here to see you like this. When you were in danger, he gave up everything to protect and save you. And now, when he needs you to return the favor, all you can think about is protocol and what’s best for **you**.”

Another pause.  

**“Perhaps it’s better if he dies before seeing what a gutless disappointment you are.”**

Ludwig was striding for the wardrobe door, when the last utterance hit him like a physical blow. It stopped him from passing through the opening and into the other room. He knew Matthew was lashing out from a place of extreme hurt and frustration over Gil’s plight, but that didn’t mean his words didn’t strike a cord on all his insecurities.

His teeth clenched, and Ludwig tried not to choke around the lump in his throat as he marched back out of his wardrobe.

He was greeted with an empty bedchamber.  

Matthew, had vanished.

**“Gottverdammt!!!!!”**

Ludwig raced out of his chambers and waving off the surprised guards outside his door, headed for the records library with great purpose.

_I’ll find something. Failing is **not** an option!_

“Your Highness!”

Ludwig nearly missed a step, but kept going as he looked over his shoulder to see who had called out to him.

It was the Royal Accountant, Vash. Ludwig’s personal bodyguard and Oberleutnant, Lars, a step behind him. Both were striding down the hall toward him with great urgency.

Ludwig kept going and waved them off. “Not now. Whatever it is, it will wait. Something much more important has come up and I don’t have time to figure out why your accounts aren’t adding up again, Vash.”

Ludwig turned a corner, but jumped slightly when Lars took hold of his arm to stop him. He looked at his bodyguard with a scowl. No matter how many years they’d known each other, Ludwig still hadn’t gotten used to how efficient and fast Lars could be.

Lars returned his look. One of few people who didn’t shrink away from his glare. “Ludwig.”

That gave him pause. It was an unspoken rule between the three, unless they were in private, honorifics and titles were used to uphold appearances.

They were currently in the main hall of the wing. Something was seriously wrong.

Vash caught up to them and shoved a paper, Ludwig hadn’t noticed him holding, into his chest. His permanent pinched brow more furrowed than usual. Obviously, something was making problems for him.

“Actually, **my Prince**. You should **really** look at this particular account.”

 

*******

Gil lolled his head forward to protect his throat from the sharp stick of the tool cutting shallow rips into his chest and stomach.

 His torso hung on broken arms. His equally broken legs hung down below him.

He was strung up by his chains, dangling in the center of the room. The hooks previously mounted in the stone mantle now rested between the grain of the wood in the cabin’s ceiling. The chains wound through the hooks to the sides of the cabin; where they were held in place by metal stakes embedded in opposite sidewalls. Stakes once brought as weapons, now used to adjust and move his height in the air.

Carlos ran the wool carder over his chest, down his lower abdomen. Shallow red trails stung in the wake of the tools’ metal prongs.

Gil’s body swayed slightly from the pressure placed on the instrument of torture. He clenched his back molars in silent agony. He refused to give up the game and cry out in pain like he wanted to. Even the slight movement from the wool carder added to the weight placed on his broken arms.

All the while Carlos kept up his endless prattle. Completely oblivious to the inner struggle within his victim.

Instead he replaced the previous lullaby left outside with his own solo.

And it was just as boring.

Same questions laced with his predictable brand of narcissism.

 

“Where are the bodies?”

“Where they tasty?”

“Is there a specific way you cooked them? Or did you eat them raw?”

“How many people have you killed? Did you eat them all?”

 

On and on he went, and once again Gil fought off a creeping drowsiness.

Frankly, the only thing keeping him awake was the adrenaline from the pain burning across his broken body.

That and the sadistic remarks of the dead child watching him from the darkest recesses of his mind.

Locke sat in the corner of the cabin, just visible in the corner of his mind’s eye.

Watching him with a pleased, yet unsatisfied expression.

Reminding him of what Gil owed him.

Reminding him of his failure.

Waiting for him to break.

Waiting for him to join him on the other side.

_“Why don’t you just tell him, Poppy?”_

The ghost mocked him with fake affection in his words.

_“I miss you so much. There’s no way out for you. Just tell him what he wants, and the pain will end.”_

_“Don’t worry, Gӧr. I’ll be dead soon enough. I just want to take my time and enjoy it.”_

He never replied to Locke out loud. That’s how he knew it was all an illusion. Even when he didn’t use his voice, Locke heard him. Because they were both trapped in his mind.

The nightmare and it’s victim.

Held prisoner in the one place he could never escape.

A metal barb stuck on a boney rib and Gil grunted in surprise at the reminder of the other opponent in this game. 

His mind might be subjugated to the whims of his own brand of demons. But, his body entertained the piece of human trash making lines in his flesh.

Carlos sneered in satisfaction. He’d finally succeeded in forcing a sound from his quarry.

“Ah, what a pretty sound. Almost as good as a lover’s cry.”

Gil hated the self-satisfied tilt to the man’s lips. He doubted the man had ever warranted his mother’s love, let alone the pleasure filled sighs of a lover.

Gil focused his eyes on the waste of space before him, and leveled a disbelieving and superior grin on the Sheriff.

“Oh? Is that why your precious toy ran from you and to me instead?”

The sneer left Carlos’s face in a flash of burning rage.

“Then you admit to your crimes?”

If ice could form around words, there would be frost covering every surface within the room.

More teeth showed through Gil’s grin. “Oh, I’m not confessing to anything. Except eating him. That I did do. Though it wasn’t cannibalism. I was harvesting some of those lovely cries you mentioned just now.”

Carlos’s rage kicked up a notch and Gil couldn’t resist egging him on a bit more.

“They were delicious.”

Hot puffs of air sawed through the Sheriffs’ nostrils, but words couldn’t form enough to leave his mouth through his hatred.

“What’s the matter, oh great Sheriff? Does it hurt your whittle ego to know you were incapable of pleasing him? That he ran to me? A literal beast, because you weren’t enough to satisfy him?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Gil saw Locke get up from beside the wall and walk towards them.

Carlos stepped forward as well, he would have been in Gil’s face if the chains didn’t raise him up to tower over the dredge.

“Does it bother you to know you’ll never know what those cries sound like? That you’ll never know what it feels like to touch his softness? To drown in his heat? Be drenched in his passion?”

Carlos’s hand tightened over the wool carder in his hand and he raised it over his head to strike.

“No. Of course not. You can’t even torture someone well. How the verdammt could you fumble your way through fucking a sheep let alone someone capable of knowing you egregiously suck at it.”

The muscles in the Sheriff’s arm bunched, a split second from raining those sharp edges down on his person.

***Knock*Knock***

Carlos paused and glared at the door. Gil didn’t let his gaze wander from the threat before him. At his side, Locke reached out and clutched at his side.

**“What!?!?!”**

Carlos barked out his frustration and anger at the unknown party beyond the barrier.

“U-um, Sheriff. We brought what you requested. Is now not a good time?”

A slow triumphant smile cracked across the man’s face. Carlos turned his smile on Gil briefly before striding to the door. Opening it, he ushered two men in.

At his side, Locke began whimpering. Large crocodile tears rained down over a starving and gleeful grin.

_“He brought us a present, Poppy. He wants us to be together. He’s going to help us.”_

The two men came in and blanched as the sight of him. Gil winked at them and grinned at the items in their hands.

“Oh, gentlemen. You spoil me.”

One man held a small ruck sack. The material bulged and moved as an unknown creature scuffled around inside; searching for an escape from the abrasive cloth. Muffled squeaks peppered the air with sound.

The other clutched a type of box at his side. It appeared to be about two feet across on each side. Two leather straps worked as hinges opposite a hole roughly the diameter of a persons’ neck. Another couple of leather stays on either side of the hole to keep it closed. A small wooden door opened up on yet more leather straps on the crates’ side.

Carlos closed the door behind them and took their items with a sick sneer. “Lower him.”

The two men went to their metal pikes on either side of Gil and unfastened the chains. They lowered him down so his feet could touch the floor.

“There’s good.” Carlos snickered around his words.

Gil growled at him in his mind. They’d lowered him just enough that if he chose, he could stand. It left him with the terrible decision of where to put his weight. If he hung there on his arms, he’d continued to feel the pain wracking his already crippled limbs. If he gave his arms a break and stood, he’d do so on his equally broken legs. Simply switching the pain from one place to another.

Not that it mattered much anyway. His whole body was already one giant gaping sore.

Carlos stepped forward once they were done securing the chains. Tossing the crate back to one of the men, he ordered him to put it on Gil.

The man stepped forward cautiously. Terrified of Gil, despite his restraints.

Gil grinned ferally at him. A predator flashing his teeth. “Careful now. I really do bite the hand that feeds me.”

His harsh hiss of laughter followed his words and the man almost lost his nerve.

A look that promised death should he disobey from the Sheriff pushed him forward.

The man placed the box over Gil’s head and fastened it with the leather stays.

Carlos knocked on the side of the crate, jarring Gil’s sensitive ears with the echo. “How is it?”

Gil rolled his eyes. “I can honestly say it’s the best box my heads ever been trapped in. Though your interior decorating skills suck just as bad the rest of you.”

Carlos wasn’t baited by Gil’s words, instead he chuckled. “Well, maybe a pet will make you feel more at home.”

The door opened to reveal the Sheriffs vile face. “Here you go.”

His face was quickly blotted out by the opening in the burlap sack. The sack was shifted until a small creature came into view. Dark brown, matted fur surrounded red, beady eyes and yellow incisors.

A wood rat.

Carlos snickered as the rat was trapped inside the box with Gil. It’s greasy fur running along his neck as the rodent searched for a way out. “Isn’t he cute? I think he’s the perfect pet for you.”

Gil snorted and the rat startled at the sound. Squeaking in it’s surprise. “Really? I think it’d be better for you. You share a face.”

Gil could hear the distressed scuffles of the other men in the room. He could tell from the sounds they just wanted to leave. Carlos remained still. He believed this would break Gil, and his damaged ego wanted an audience to lord his triumph over.

“Last chance, Beast. Confess to your crimes. Or it’s dinner time for your new pet.”

Gil hissed another harsh laugh at the strained threat. “Eat schiesse.”

“As you wish.”

Carlos took the handle of the wool carder and began banging down on the wooden crate around Gil’s head. 

The rat panicked. The furry varmint scurried around the crate, scratching Gil’s face in the process. Gnawing down on the wood in an effort to escape.

The banging continued to Carlos’s maniacal laughter. The rat soon deduced it would not escape through the wood and switched its route of escape.

It quit its pursuit of the crates’ wood and instead started in on Gil’s face. Gil growled at it as it squeaked around bites of his flesh. Slowly it worked its way around his head. From the back of his skull, to bite down on his ear cartilage, and finally his eyes.

The tiny monster felt out his eyes and notched out chunks of his eyelids.

All the while Gil growled, while the creature squeaked back.

Outside, the men shuffled back in horror and Carlos laughed uproariously.

And Locke.

Locke pleaded with him.

Locke begged him to make his pain stop. His memories mixing with the new nightmare.

 

_“Poppy……” *sniffle*_

_“Poppy, it’s so cold. I want to go home.”_

_“I don’t like it here, why can’t we go home.”_

_“Help me, Poppy!” “They’re gonna eat me!”_

_“I just want to die. Please, Poppy. I’m tired.”_

_“…….I’m so hungry……”_

Something in Gil snapped then. A small thread of the humanity he’d woven into the tapestry of himself, ripped and broke inside him.

Growling out a harsh shout, he bared his teeth and wretched his mouth over the rat’s head. His fangs snapped shut over the terrified rodent and letting out a final terrified squeal, it died as Gil’s jaws separated its head from its body.

His molars cracked the skull in his mouth, before he swallowed it whole.

Warm blood sprayed his face as the laughter outside his box died.

Gil crunched his way through the rat’s body, devouring it in gory glee as the stays of the crate’s door worked open.

Carlos appeared in the small opening, just in time to see Gil slurp his dead pet’s furry tail through his bloody lips and down his gullet.

“Kesesese. Thanks for the meal.” Gil’s voice held a dark promise of their graphic demise.

His gaze wondered from Carlos to the two men cowering in the corner. Their faces white with terror and shock. “What’s for desert?”

A flash of thunder backed up his words then, and Gil smiled ferally at the perfect timing.

Rain started pelting a staccato on the cabins roof and smoke billowed from the embers banked from water raining down through the chimney. The black and murky screen wafted up from the hearth behind him. A perfect background to the picture his visage painted in that moment.

Carlos’s expression shut down. His frustration past the point of rage and now full of blatant determination. He held Gil’s gaze before turning to the two men. “Get him down. I want those chains off the hooks. Don’t unchain him. Lay him flat on that table there.”

He pointed to the low table in the corner.

One of the men ran to the door and disappeared through it. He came back a minute later with a pitchfork. He walked up under one of the hooks and used it to maneuver one of the chains off it. He did the same with the other.

Gil collapsed onto the dirt floor on smashed knees. A small groan left his lips before he could stifle it.

The Sheriff’s grin reappeared. “Lay him flat on his back. Secure the chains so he can’t more. I want it tight.”

One man moved the table right behind Gil, before they used the chains to haul him up onto it.

His arms whipped back on their splintered bones as rough wood met his tortured muscles. His legs flopped helplessly to the sides of the surface. The table ended at his shoulders. His head lulled back off the edge. No support underneath it.

His shoulders popped out of their sockets as the chains were pulled past the taunt point. Once the chains were secure, the two men fled the cabin.

Carlos took up the pitchfork and moved toward Gil. He raised the pitchfork and Gil stared him down. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of looking away.

But instead of brining the implement down on Gil’s splayed self, Carlos kept raising the pitchfork up. He raised it to the ceiling and stabbing an outer prong through the wood’s grain, burrowed out a hole in the roof.

Rain dripped down in a slow stream to land directly between Gil’s eyes.

The Sheriff grinned and placed the pitchfork against the wall next to the fireplace. No doubt intent on using it later.

He moved toward the door and turned back to address him. “We’ll continue our conversation in the morning. After you’ve had time to think about your position. Sweet dreams, Beast.”

His harsh guffaws accompanied the slam of the cabin door.

Rain continued to drip down on Gil’s face at a steady rhythm. A third lullaby to accompany the others.

The water mixed with the blood and his eyes drowned in red. Both his and the dead rat’s. His chewed-up eye-lids providing a continuous stream of coppery pigment. Staining his soul with so much red, it bled a deeper shade of black.

Through the stream, Gil looked up to see Locke. He was no longer by his side. He’d moved to the ceiling. Mirroring Gil on his own table, restrained in chains.

His expression changed from fake crying and sniffles to hate and blame.

_“You deserve this, Poppy. You broke your promise.”_

Gil glared right back. “I did no such thing. I protected you until the very end.”

_“You **were** my end, Poppy. **You killed me.”**_

Before his eyes, the mirrored ghost morphed from a healthy child to a lifeless corpse. Naked, sallow skin matching the white film over his dead eyes. His lips gasping in time to the pump of blood poring out the cut artery on his thigh. A bloody match to the red dripping off the arrow in his abdomen to drop onto Gil’s face.

Right between his eyes.

“You were dying in agony, Locke. There was nothing I could do. Except make it as painless as possible. I kept my promise.”

_“That’s not the promise I’m talking about, Poppy. You said we would escape one day. You said we would always be together.”_

“There wasn’t a chance to escape, Locke. It wasn’t possible.”

The corpse scrunched it’s face up in anger. More blood began dripping from its eyes and teeth spewed from its mouth with every scream.

_“No. No. No. No! You lie! We could have escaped! We were right next to the Dark Woods! We could have fled together, but we didn’t! You let them send us in, and I died. You could have followed me, but instead you used my dying body for your own escape! You abandoned me, Poppy.”_

Its face changed from angry hatred to cruel glee.

 _“You broke your promises, Poppy. You killed me and replaced me with **him**_.”

The scene above him morphed once again. This time it wasn’t Locke’s corpse staring down at him.

It was his Birdie.

Matthew’s pleading and terrified face met Gil’s eyes. He was shirtless and kneeling on a scaffold. His arms stretched out in chains at his side. Locke’s lifeless corpse decked out in executioner black, stood beside a table overflowing with torture tools.

A blazing grate rested beside the table. A metal rod sticking out the side and at the ready.

_“G-Gil. Help me.”_

Matthew’s whimper was so realistic, it stopped Gil’s heart cold.

“Locke. No.”

The ghost snickered.

_“You did this to yourself, Poppy. You chose him instead of me. He stole you from me. So now, he must be punished.”_

_“G-Gil.”_

Panic coated his name on Matthew’s lips.

Gil gritted his teeth as Locke moved toward the table of torture devices.

“You don’t have to do this, Locke.”

_“Oh, yes. Yes, I do. I can’t stop this now. But you can. You can save him. All you have to do is join me.”_

Locke perused the table with a critical eye. His eyes moved to the grate and he threw his hands up in glee.

_“Oh!”_

His nail-less fingers clutched the metal rod sticking out of the grate. He pulled it out and lifted up a charred black eagle.

_“This will do nicely.”_

_“Gil! Save me! Please!”_

Locke’s ghost moved in behind Matthew. One hand hauling his head back behind his tear-stained, pleading face. The other waving the brand tauntingly.

_“What’ll it be, Poppy? What will you sacrifice this time? Which Matthew will you save? This one? Or the one you **threw away**?”_

**_“Gil!”_ **

**“LOCKE!!!!!”**

A volcanic rage flooded through Gil’s veins. A frustration at the unfairness of his decisions. At the choices he’d been forced to make. It wasn’t just.

But then, when had the world ever been that?

When had it ever given him something without taking everything else away?

The executioner of his heart smiled cruelly over a triumphant grin.

_“Choose, Poppy.”_

**_“Gil! SAVE ME!!!”_ **

Gil turned to the Matthew trapped with him inside his hell. His heart tore open at Matthew’s begging eyes. His body ached with the futility of all he’d done. At the hopelessness of his life.

“I’m sorry, Birdie.”

The brand pressed into soft flesh. Skin and bone burned under the violent metal. Muscle boiled and popped blood under the dark avian’s onslaught.

The ghost laughed in glee.

Matthew screamed in agony.

And Gil roared in horror.

 

*******

** German Translations: **

  1. Attentäter = Assassin
  2. Mein = My/Mine
  3. Bruder = Brother
  4. Das Biest = The Beast
  5. Liebhaber = Lover
  6. Aschenputtel = Cinderella
  7. Dummkopf = Idiot/Stupid
  8. Gottverdammt = God Damn It
  9. Oberleutnant = German Military Rank (Equivalent to a Senior Lieutenant in other Armies)
  10. Gӧr = Brat
  11. Verdammt = Damn / Bloody Hell
  12. Schiesse = Shit
  13. Vati = Father / Dad
  14. Kleiner Bär = little bear
  15. Ich Liebe Dich = I love you



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooh! Challenged here! Alright, guys. Another chapter down. Let’s keep this train going, shall we?  
> Here is a picture link for a modern hand-held wool carder. It’s not exact, but it’ll give you an idea. This is what Carlos was using on Gil. While torture is not it’s intended purpose, there are a few accounts of it being used for it. Basically, it was used like the more famous torture tools, the “Cat’s Paw” and the “Spanish Tickler”. Though, Wool Carders didn’t remove as much flesh as quickly, so they weren’t as popular.  
> Wool Carder Link: https://www.google.com/search?q=medieval+wool+carder&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwj_jKzeqtPXAhVi5oMKHafGACgQ_AUICygC&biw=1707&bih=855#imgrc=PBr1eZC055O_RM  
> Also, here’s a link on “Chinese Water Torture” and “Rat Torture” if anyone is interested. Fun stuff.  
> Chinese Water Torture Link:  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chinese_water_torture  
> Rat Torture Link:  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rat_torture  
> Still down a laptop, but the end is in sight and I’m eager to get it done. Let us know in the comments section what you thought or just to say hi. See you guys next time! You’re all awesome! (^^)


	22. Chapter #20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot, Woot! Hey guys, Challenged here! Happy Late Holidays everyone. Here, have an update! Our little gift to you. Even if it isn’t on time. Notes and translations at the bottom. Enjoy everyone! (^^)

Gil couldn’t feel the edges of his eyelids.

The two sockets felt like twin gaping pits. Swollen, black, and dry. Brittle film glued his eyelids open, his tired veins blocking their closure.

Staring, always staring. Helpless to his waking nightmare.

_How…. How long have I been watching this?_

Gil’s eyes stayed trained on the masticated form hanging down against it’s bindings. Shredded limbs barely able to keep the mangled body from dropping down on him in a some-what whole heap.

The form’s voice cut off along with its pierced throat. Its vocal cords displayed on the end of the heated poker stuck through the muscles in its neck. A single eye hung down on the end of its sinewy strand. Somehow still begging him to deliver its salvation.

A mouth devoid of teeth gaped open on broken hinges. Lips split and bruised on both silent and audible screams.

Its crimson essence still dripping, even after it’s life force had been bled dry. A clear flow eroding a hole through his forehead as it battered against his face. A steady beat against his mind.

Soothing and muddling at the same time. Dragging him deeper and deeper into the murky darkness of his world.

Behind the form once resembling Matthew, stood Locke. No longer in his child form, he’d taken on Gil’s appearance for the worst of the atrocities he’d performed on his fake lover.

Constantly reminding him that he could’ve saved him. That he always had the option.

That he’d **chosen** to let the fake one suffer. That he’d **chosen** to throw the real one away.

Locke grinned through his mirrored disguise as he used his clawed hands to dig out the dead fake Matthew’s organs. Smiling ferally as one by one, he ate them.

The gross slap and smack of tearing flesh echoed against Locke’s fangs as he enjoyed his meal.

Blood shimmering and devoid of life dripped down his chin and over his scars. Healing and eliminating all his wrongs with this Matthew’s death.

_“Is he really that important to you Poppy? Is he really worth giving your life for? Is he worth **living** for?”_

Gil stared into the black void that was once his Birdie. Fake or not, it **was** him in this world.

Gil knew in a far corner of his mind that this wasn’t him. That the real Matthew had escaped with Fritz. But, that didn’t make the one inside his head any less real. Not while he resided within this nightmare. Here both the long dead child and the corpse of his lover were just as real as outside it.

And he’d been forced to watch as his beloved had been tortured to death in front of him. Tortured in ways so similar to those he’d endured during his own sentence.

Except his Birdie didn’t survive it.

_In truth, I never really survived it either. I died in those chains. I died and lost myself to the Beast._

He’d been on borrowed time, these last five years. It was time to go back to where he belonged.

**It was time for the Beast to rest.**

When Carlos returned, he’d provoke him. It’d been long enough. Matthew was safe. No one would ever hurt him again. He trusted Fritz to keep his promise.

He looked his nightmare in the eye, and finally gave in to his demands. “Let’s go home, Locke.”

He saw the monster above him split his lips into a feral grin, before the sound of the cabin’s door drew him to face it.

Sheriff Machado strode into the cabin, completely ignoring him. Carrying a burning stick in one hand, he made his way to the hearth behind Gil and lit it.

Gil couldn’t move to see him; the angle was too far back for him to see even if his head was hanging off the end of the low table.

But, he could still hear him.

Gil didn’t move as the Sheriff took the pitchfork from it’s position against the wall and placed what he assumed was the pronged end into the flames. He also added the crude metal poker Gil had fashioned for his hearth years ago next to the pitchfork.

Gil focused his unmoving gaze at the dead corpse of his tortured lover.

The poker in Matthew’s ravaged throat was missing.

Carlos came up behind him and sneered down at Gil. Obviously pleased at his sorry state.

“Sleep well, Beast?”

Gil rolled his eyes, but winced slightly at the pain even the simple movement caused.

_Worth it._

Gil drew in a ragged breath before answering. “No. I didn’t. You might be a dummkopf, but even you can see that much.”

Carlos’s sneer widened. If he was surprised by Gil’s lack of venom, he didn’t show it.

The Sheriff reached out and pulled Gil’s head back at an uncomfortable angle. Cracking his neck as he nearly bent it in half to look up at him.

“Are you ready to confess to your crimes, Beast?”

Gil looked him in the eye for long moments. Ever fiber of him urged him to kill this man. To wretch his head to the side and bite into the artery of his wrist. To hiss his hollow laugh as the **real** monster here bled out as he’d been forced to witness the man he loved do so.

But he couldn’t.

He needed this man to end him instead. So his nightmare wouldn’t become a reality.

So his Birdie would live.

Holding back the bile choking the back of his throat, he answered. “Ja. I am ready to confess my sins.”

The look of triumph on the Sheriff’s face cracked the layers of grime and sweat on his skin. “Are you now? Alright, Monster. I’m listening.”

Gil paused.

Carlos slammed the side of Gil’s face with his other hand. “I am not a patient man. Tell me what I want to hear. If you do not wish to suffer more, I suggest you get on with it.”

Gil took a huffing breath and glared up at the piece of inhuman filth above him. “I am a criminal of the Kingdom. I was branded a fodder slave for desertion and escaped. I hid in these woods to escape my sentence. Last fall, a young man named Matthew ran to my territory and I gave him shelter until a few days ago when he left.”

That was it. He didn’t continue.

Carlos waited for him to finish. When he didn’t, his face mottled into a mirage of enraged colors. “And?”

Gil didn’t blink. “And what?”

Carlos lowered his face. Attempting to impose his will on his captive. “And where is he? Did you eat him?”

“No.”

Carlos slammed his other side this time. “You lie! Where else could he be?”

Gil hissed his salty laugh then. “Keseses. I saw you coming and told him. He was so disgusted at the thought of seeing you again, he up and left without a backwards glance. Probably eaten by wolves by now.”

Gil narrowed his eyes on him. “The idea of you catching and touching him again, repulsed him so much he’d rather be eaten by wild Beasts than let you get your hands on him again.”

The Sheriff raised his hand to deliver another blow, but paused. Lowering it, he studied Gil’s face.

Gil was convinced his expression showed triumph and mirth, but made no move to hide it. This was his end.

He would not go out hiding.

Carlos studied him another moment and narrowed his eyes. “No. No, he’s not dead. He’s still alive. You have been my prisoner and withstood torture all this time without cracking. Even now you protect him. You don’t care if you die here. Either you killed him yourself and feel guilty or you’ve hidden him somewhere.”

Carlos let go of his hair and reached behind him to pull the pitchfork from it’s place within the flames. Moving to Gil’s feet, he raised the white-hot prongs into his view.

“Tell me where he is.”

Gil didn’t blink; didn’t flinch as he answered. “I don’t know.”

Carlos turned the pitchfork and stabbed two prongs into the arch of the underside of Gil’s foot. “Wrong answer.”

Gil snapped his teeth shut as he clenched them on an agonized groan. His body withered on the low-table.

Carlos paused in surprise. For the first time, Gil had given an actual response to pain. He looked down at the pitchfork and back to Gil. Trying to figure out what he’d done different this time. Suddenly, realization hit him and a slow Cheshire grin split his chapped lips.

“What’s wrong, Beast? Afraid of a little fire?”

He pulled the implement out, dragging singed flesh with it. “Why don’t you tell me where you hid my toy and I’ll stop. I kill you nice and quickly. All this will end.”

He stuck his other foot and Gil hissed out a pained gasp. “No.”

“Are you sure?” Prongs met the flesh of Gil’s calves.

Gil shook his head and glared at his assailant. “I already told you he left. I don’t know where he is. And I won’t confess to a crime I didn’t commit. This might be the end of me, we both know you can’t let me live through this, but I still have my integrity. Tattered as it might be.”

“Then you will pay for it.”

Carlos continued his ministrations. Slowly working his way up Gil’s left side. Up his leg, his sides. Paying particular attention to his armpit. Spearing it multiple times, to prolong the agony on his sensitive tissue.

His torture only ceasing a few moments for Carlos to reheat the prongs of the pitchfork.

Carlos turned once again to plunge the prongs into the flames again and Gil let out an exasperated sigh of short-lived relief.

No sooner had one torture ended, had another began.

Locke was once again at his side. Staring down at him with hateful distain.

_“What are you doing, Poppy?”_

Gil met the eyes of his nightmare without flinching. The corners of his vision growing fuzzy from the pain streaking through his failing body. “I’m dying, Gör.”

He turned his head forward once more to stare at the ceiling. Blessedly devoid of his dead lover’s corpse. “Why don’t you give it a rest and leave me to it.”

Carlos turned from the fireplace and answered for Locke. “Now where would the fun be in that? Tell me where he is, and I’ll let you do just that.”

Gil ignored him. He had worst demons to deal with.

_“You said we were going home, Poppy. Why are you stalling?”_

“I’m not stalling.”

“Then tell me where he is.” _“Then stop breaking your promises to me, Poppy.”_

Two voices might be hitting his ears, but only one held his attention. The Sheriff came around again with the pitchfork. Using it on his other side, Gil flinched but didn’t face him. His focus on the dead child on his other side.

“I won’t die for something I didn’t do. My body won’t last much longer anyway. If he wants to kill me, let him. I won’t tell him where Matthew is. I can’t. If he’s going to kill me, he can do it for the brand on my back. Not the one on my heart.”

“I can, can I?”

Carlos went to work on his side. Piercing holes in his flesh without forethought. Narrowly missing his organs and arteries by sheer luck; not intention.

The Sheriff’s patience devolved and became as thin as Locke’s. The nightmare grew deathly silent. Staring Gil down with a calculating gaze. With a sadistic intent.

After long minutes, Locke smiled sweetly and Gil felt an icy dread race up his body; extinguishing the burn Carlos inflicted.

_“If you won’t confess all to the Sheriff, maybe you’ll do it for **him**.”_

To Gil’s complete and total horror, Locke changed his form once again.

Into the visage of the one person he hated most in the world.

**The King.**

Flowing pale blonde hair streamed down to grace the front of striking crimson and silver royal robes. The jewels upon his royal crown the same blood red as Gil’s eyes.

The colors of the people he’d culled upon his ascension.

Cruel lips curved as the phantom took in his descendent.

_“Hello, demon-spawn.”_

Hatred pure and all-encompassing blotted out any exhaustion and pain in Gil’s body. He heaved against his restraints as he lunged to devour the smug face taunting him. His voice hoarse and cutting through the air with his growl.

**“If I’m the demon-spawn, then what does that make you?”**

Carlos drew back in confusion. Anger tinging the words Gil couldn’t hear in his delirium. “What’s wrong with you? Did you finally snap?!?! Why are you ignoring me?!?!”

Gil continued, completely oblivious to the Sheriff. His nightmare only allowing him to focus on the enemy before him. Carlos no longer inhabited his realm.

The King smiled superiorly down at his quarry. _“Come now, Sohn. Is that any way to talk to your father? I came all this way just to see you.”_

Gil’s body contorted from the intensity of his rage. **“You have never been my Vater.”**

The King laughed _. “Hahaha! Of course, I’m your Vater. I raped your Mutter, didn’t I?”_

The King moved behind Gil and gripped his hair with twin fists. Halting his movements and disabling his weaponized teeth. _“Face it, Sohn. I fucked a beast, and a beast was born of the Barbarian Mutter.”_

He looked down at Gil’s feet and Gil followed his gaze.

He didn’t register the Sheriff steadily become more and more enraged at Gil ignoring him. At his piercings having no effect on his victim.

He didn’t notice Carlos abandon the pitchfork in leu of the poker waiting in the hearths ashes.

Instead, he focused on the scene unfolding before his horrified mind.

_“If only her death had been as easy as your conception.”_

The walls of the cabin disappeared to be replaced with the stone wall of the great halls ruins. A woman in a skin dress of furs fought off soldiers bearing the Kingdoms’ crest. Two older men sharing her features fought like animals to protect their daughter, but it was no use. They were overwhelmed by the enemy’s numbers.

The older men threw the woman behind them and quickly died as they were speared through simultaneously. The larger man died instantly, and the woman cried out as she attempted to cover the smaller man’s body with her own to shield him.

She held him as he died in her arms. Her tears washing the blood off his face. The soldiers converged on her and as a single unit, simultaneously raised their arms to hack her to pieces.

Gil roared as the multiple blows landed; feeling the harsh burn of the strikes hitting his own body. The woman in turn, stayed silent as her fate was meted out.

_“A fitting end for a Beast. To be hunted down like an animal.”_

Gil turned blazing eyes on the dredge holding his skull. **“You. You ordered the death of her and her people. You murdered my Mutter. If she is an animal, then you are a monster.”**

The phantom smiled and quirked an eyebrow in mirth. _“Really? Are you sure it’s not, you? You, who have consumed human flesh?”_

The King looked forward and Gil followed his gaze. The scene at he ruins had been replace with one of the scaffold outside the dungeons along the Palace walls.

The steady sound of metal striking flesh became the dead-mans march of a drum. Gil watched in anguish as all the people he’d loved in life were marched up to the gallows.

Helga.

Antonio.

Frances.

Fritz.

Matthew.

……… and Luddy.

_“You, who have brought death upon your loved ones.”_

One by one, executioner Locke secured them to their nooses. Making sure his brother could reach his by placing a stool over the trap door in the floor.

Gil heard the King’s voice right next his ear as they were executed one by one.

_“You knew what I was capable of.”_

Locke pulled the first of six levers and Helga dropped.

_“You knew how far my power reached.”_

A second lever and Antonio snapped on the end of his rope.

_“And yet you hid.”_

The third lever creaked and Frances’s frothy clothes danced as they swung on the breeze.

_“You eked out a territory here in the Dark Woods.”_

Metal clanged as Fritz was jarred from his sudden decent. His metal medals and armaments adding to the beat of the drums.

_“You could have come back. You could have saved them.”_

Matthew screamed Gil’s name, before a black bag was placed over his face and his cries ended abruptly on a wheezing choke.

_“But instead you selfishly lived on. You abandoned them to their fate instead of ending it all yourself.”_

_“B-Bruder!”_

Tears streamed down Luddy’s face. Gil’s own copied them when he saw them.

_“You did just as expected of a Beast, and delivered them right to me. Deliberately bringing him back to my clutches. Forcing a life on him you knew first hand would be filled with pain.”_

Locke moved his hand over the sixth and final lever.

_“Only a Beast would subjugate his precious Bruder to such a fate.”_

Locke’s hand gripped the lever, but paused as Gil’s hissing chuckled broke the tense air between them.

The King bent over him to peer down at him quizzically. _“Why are you laughing at this?”_

Gil cried around his broken lips. **“Kesesese. This isn’t real. No matter what you do to me here. No matter what you show me here, I know they are safe. I know I did the right thing. That you can’t really touch them here.”**

The King cocked his head to one side in confusion. _“Oh? And how is that?”_

Gil grinned up at his enemy with all his teeth. “You’re about to execute a royal by hanging him.”

The King paused and frowned for a long minute before illumination hit him. A slow, feral smile spread across his face. _“You are absolutely right. How thoughtless of me.”_

He looked up at Locke and the dead corpse nodded as he mirrored the King’s chilling smile. Snapping his fingers, a chain with two shackles and a heavy weight appeared in his hands. Locke attached the shackles to Ludwig’s ankles and placed the weight on the stool between his feet.

Gil watched, and his eyes widened in understanding. Turning his head, he pleaded with the phantom forcing his head to watch.

**“No. Don’t do this. Not to mein Bruder.”**

The King slanted his eyes down at Gil. No remorse or regret in his words. Only the law of a monarchs will. _“You’re completely right, mein Sohn. He is a royal, he should be be-headed like one.”_

The phantom nodded in signal to Locke and he pulled the final lever.

Gil screamed in agony as he watched his brother’s botched execution unfold.

Three things dropped through the trap. The stool, the weight, and his brother’s body.

His head did not.

The weight pulling against the child’s feet was too much for his neck to sustain. One by one, the strands of muscle in his brother’s neck snapped and split. Breaking his neck and skin from the pressure. Effectively separating his skull from the rest of his fragile body.

Gil roars accompanied the dull thud of the headless body landing on the weights and stool below.

His jaws snapped, and his teeth bled in their gums. His body contorted on the low-table. His broken bones splintered even more in their fleshy prisons. The chains creaked, and the wood groaned as the metal pikes shifted in the cabins walls.

So enraged by what he’d seen, he didn’t feel the pain. Didn’t care about how much damage he dealt his own body. All that mattered now was ripping apart the one responsible.

**“I”LL KILL YOU!”**

**“YOU DID THIS TO ME!”**

**“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!?!?! WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY?!?!?!”**

**“THAT I KILLED PEOPLE?!?! THAT I ATE THEM?!?!”**

**“YOU KNOW VERDAMMT WELL I DID! YOU’RE THE ONE WHO SENT ME TO THAT HELL!”**

**“YES, I KILLED AND ATE PEOPLE! I ATE THEM _ALL-_!”**

His head slammed to the side and his roaring tirade came to an abrupt halt. Only one metal spike remained in the wall. Three more harsh strikes rained down on his head and Gil’s body went limp.

His head swam, and his vision clouded.

The source of his nightmares had disappeared. No Locke. No Gallows. And no King.

Just a very shaky Sheriff clutching a metal poker in his fisted hands.

As Gil’s body remained still, the Sheriff tentatively stepped forward. Gil trained his eyes on his forgotten captor and glared weakly up at him. He just didn’t have it in him to do anything more.

After a long minute, the Sheriff dropped his defensive stance and walked to the door. Opening it, he called out the men gathered outside.

“Gather up our gear, men! He’s confessed to his crimes. All that’s left is the execution!”

He paused as he thought. “Have someone make a small sled for the prisoner so he’ll be easier to move.”

The Sheriff held open the door for two men to come in. It was the same two men who’d brought the wood rat and its box. They stopped short as they took in both him and the single chain pulled from the wall.

They pulled the other pike out and cautiously dragged him off the low table.

Gil didn’t fight them.

His eyes met the Sheriff’s as they pulled him across the floor. “I thought you were going to kill me nice and quickly if I confessed.”

The Sheriff sneered down at the battered form being dragged through his own blood on the dirt floor.

“I lied.”

His eyes flickered to the tallest tree in the grove, directly across the clearing from the cabins door. His hand shifting the still hot poker around in his palm.  

“In fact, I have something quite special in mind.”

 

*******

****

Matthew and Alfred rode on. Out the gate, past a very surprised and peeved Guard Captain, and through the night toward the Dark Wood.

Their huffing breaths synched up with those of the horses beneath them. Heart beats in time with the fast clip of their heavy hooves.

Avoiding the village, they came to the eastern side of the Dark Wood just as the morning crested the horizon.

Heading into the foliage of death, Alfred followed his brother as he led them to the Bartian ruins.

Their plan was simple.

Sneak in unnoticed, and either get Gil out without Carlos and his mob noticing, or ambush them and take Gil back by force.

The brothers just hoped it didn’t come to that. As angry as they were with their fellow villagers for following Sheriff Machado, they were still their neighbors. They’d grown up with these people.

They were the closest thing they both had to family.

Once they got Gil out, they would make a mad dash through the Dark Wood and for the Krassny border. With any luck they could make it through the Kingdom and hideout for the rest of their lives in the desolate arctic of the Nordlys tundra. Hopefully it was far enough north, no one would bother following them.

Leaving the horses at the ruins. They both trekked into the hidden passage and through the inky tunnel. Matthew again, leading the way. One hand running along the wall to find his way.

Alfred watched his brother’s back as he trailed behind his younger twin. Mattie hadn’t said more than a handful of words since they’d left the palace.

He’d known it hadn’t gone well as soon as he’d found his brother in the stables.

He’d been crying.

His brother **didn’t** cry. At least, not in front of him.

Despite or maybe because of his invisibility, his brother had always held a quiet strength. At least in front of him. No matter how upset or hard things got, Alfred always knew his brother would be his rock.

It was one of the reasons he wanted to be his hero.

_Well, I guess fate has given me my chance._

The Prince wouldn’t help them.

Fritz wouldn’t help them.

They were all that was left.

And as he looked at the exhausted shake of his twins’ shoulders, Alfred knew he couldn’t fail.

They walked for long minutes, neither of them speaking, until Matthew suddenly stopped at the end of the tunnel. The light of the afternoon sun just barely traced out the outline of the trapdoor above them.

Matthew turned and motioned for his brother to remain silent as they listened for any sound from above.

They stayed that way for a good ten minutes, but didn’t hear anything.

Slowly, Matthew waved for Alfred to mount his shoulders. Lifting him, Matthew pressed Alfred towards the ceiling.

Lifting his arms and trying not to grunt with the effort, Alfred hefted the weight of both the mattress and the door open. Pinching his fingers under the door, he found purchase and pulled himself toward the opening.

Using his shoulders as a wedge, Alfred squeezed his way through the opening and crawled under the mattress to it’s edge. Peaking out from under it’s edge, he surveyed the cabin for others.

What he saw was not his neighbors. What he saw left a desolate chunk of icy dread in his chest.

_What…..what happened here?........_

Slowly, Alfred came out from under the mattress and stood. Wherever he looked, lay chaos.

The interior of the cabin was completely sprayed in blood. Not a single surface in the room was completely devoid of at least a drop. Even the ceiling held spatterings of the crimson liquid. Long streaks of it indicated something or _someone_ had been dragged out through the door.

The low table sat in the middle of the room, stained red from the blood pooling where it had run down the table’s legs.

The walls were missing chunks of wood and parts were splintered. The wood’s grain ravaged from something being pulled out.

Blackened pieces of meat clung to the hot metal of a poker, laying abandoned in the hearth’s embers. The burnt pieces of meat, Alfred prayed were not Gil’s flesh, added an extra flavor to the stench of death now permanently a part of this room.

In the corner, a small pile of pointed fingernails lay in a clotted heap.

It was too much. Too much blood. Too much death.

_Whoever was dragged out of here wasn’t dragged out alive….._

His assumption was only confirmed once he walked outside.

Listening once again at the door, Alfred waited to hear proof of life past the wooden barrier. When he didn’t get it, he creaked the door open to peak outside.

Again, nothing but destruction met his eyes.

Obvious leftovers from a camp of people were strew around the firepit and surrounding area.

But it was what ran along the ground that held his attention.

More blood and streak marks where they’d dragged a body across the clearing and too the grass on the far side opposite the cabin. In the direction of the village.

Toward a copse of tree surrounding a shallow and fresh grave.

_Oh no……..._

Alfred stepped around the grave, sick to his stomach. He bent down and delicately began to remove the dirt at the corpse’s side. His fingers revealed a patch of ashen white skin and his fears were confirmed.

_We’re too late…….._

Covering the dirt back over the body, Alfred turned back toward the cabin.

Back toward his brother. Still waiting anxiously for him in the dark pit of the tunnel. Still hopeful of saving the man he loved.

_Oh god. How am I going to tell him?_

Alfred walked toward his brother like he was walking toward his own execution. His feet dragging in the dirt. Everything inside him telling him not to go. To not kill what little hope was left in his baby brother.

That there was still a chance to be his brother’s hero.

Walking into the cabin a second time didn’t lessen the shock of the carnage displayed around him. Making his way over to the stained mattress, he pulled it off and out of the way before opening the trap door in the dirt floor.

Quickly moving his head into the opening, Alfred attempted to block out the sight of the blood streaked across the ceiling above him.

Matthew looked up at him and his face immediately fell upon seeing his brother.

“…..Al? What is it?”

Alfred just shook his head. He couldn’t find the breath to speak.

Matthew’s eyes became more panicked. “Al? What’s wrong?”

Alfred continued to shake his head. “I…I’m so sorry, Mattie.”

Matthew’s eyes lit on the streak of blood behind his brothers’ head. Peaking out from behind him with the movements of his turning skull.

His voice hard, he looked his brother dead in the eyes. “Let me up.”

Alfred paused in his shaking to stare at his brother. “No, Mattie. I’m so sorry. He’s gone, Mattie. You don’t need to see this.”

Matthew glared at his twin, a sharp edge to his eyes. A crazy and desperate glint igniting their depths. “Alfred. Let me up. **NOW**.”

Alfred met his gaze and shook his head slowly. “No.”

He slid his legs through the opening and grabbed the edge across from him to steady him as he dropped down.

At the exact moment he shifted himself through the opening, his brother grappled him around the waist. In surprise, his grip on the openings’ edge tightened. He gasped in shock while Matthew scrambled up his form and through the opening.

Alfred quickly followed him up and was met with his stunned twin taking in the murder scene around him. His face blanched white with shock and horror.

“Mattie……”

His sibling didn’t answer him. His lips moved as if to say “no” over and over again, but no sound passed between them. A single hand held over his nose as if it could cut off or erase the stench around them.

His eyes tracked along the production of destruction played out in what was once his home. They followed the path shed along the floor to the door.

Alfred scrambled to stop him before he found what lay beyond the door. “Mattie! Don’t go out there!”

Either he didn’t hear him, or he just didn’t care. Out the door he went.

“Mattie!”

Alfred ran to the door and stepped out behind his brother. Matthew’s stilted walk turned into a desperate run as his eyes tracked the stretches of blood leading to the grass. Leading into the trees.

“No….no….no….no….no…no….no…no………….”

Over and over again he gasped and cried those words. Over and over again, his words grew louder and more frantic. Realization finally setting in as the shallow grave came into his view.

Alfred ran after him only catching up to him as his brother knelt and began digging.

Running up behind him, Alfred grabbed him up under his shoulders and dragged him back. “Mattie! Mattie! He’s gone. It’s over Mattie! Stop it!”

His brother struggled and thrashed. Desperate tears streaking the dust on his face. His voice cracking on his disbelieving cries. “No! No! He can’t be dead! He can’t leave me like this! He just can’t! I won’t let him!”

“Mattie! Digging up his grave won’t bring him back! **_That’s enough, Matthew_**!”

Crying out his frustration, Matthew tossed a handful of dirt back into his face and simultaneously kicked him in the shin.

Taken off guard, Alfred grunted in pain and dropped his brother.

Matthew rushed to the grave and continued his frantic digging as Alfred attempted to remove the dirt from his eyes.

When he did, his brother had stopped digging. Matthew knelt completely still, staring down at the white chest he’d revealed from beneath the dirt.

Walking tentatively up and behind his brother. Alfred enveloped him in his muscled arms. Willing his warmth and comfort past his twin’s skin. Hoping beyond hope that somehow, he could mend the wound of his brother’s broken heart.

“I’m so sorry, Mattie. We were too late.”

Matthew didn’t answer Alfred. His twin remained stock still, staring down at the exhumed chest of his diseased lover.

“I know it hurts, Bro. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re feeling right now, but I swear to you even if it feels like your world is ending, you’re not alone. You still have me.”

Alfred tightened his arms when he still didn’t get a response.

_He can’t process what’s happened. He’s too hurt and shocked. I need to get him away from here before it finally hits him._

“Come on, Mattie. Let’s find something to mark the grave. Maybe pick some flowers. It’s gonna be dark soon. We need to get back to the horses. We can make camp and figure out our next move after that.”

“It’s not him, Al.”

The clearness and conviction in his brother’s words wretched a wound in his heart. _Oh, Mattie……_

“Mattie, please don’t do this to yourself, Bro. He’s gone. It’s over, let it go.”

His brother shrugged him off and turned to face him. His eyes completely lucid and clear. “No. Al, that’s not Gil’s body. This isn’t Gil. This is someone else’s grave.”

Alfred looked between his brother and the grave and back again. Confusion and disbelief warring with the truth ringing out his brother’s words. “What? How can you tell?”

Matthew pointed to the revealed chest a salacious and devious gleam to his smirk. “Gil’s naked body doesn’t look like this.”

Alfred’s face contorted into disgust at the mental image that smirk enacted. “Dude! Nah, Bro that’s just gross. I **did not** need that mental image while I’m next to someone’s grave **you** dug up. Just no!”

“Well we did get down and dirty.”

**_“BRO!!!”_ **

Matthew continued to chuckle over his brother. “But seriously, Al. Gil only has one nipple. And there are no scars on this chest. Gil has at least twenty on his chest **alone**.”

Alfred scratched his dusty hair. “Why does he only have one nipple?”

“Another Fodder Slave bit it off and ate it.”

Alfred turned to his brother in surprise. “Seriously?”

Matthew gave him a droll look. “Yes, Al. Seriously.”

He winced in sympathy, his hands reaching up to cover his own nipples. “Ow.”

Matthew rolled his eyes.

“But, wait. If this isn’t your boyfriend, then who is it?”

The brothers slowly turned to look down at the body before them. Without saying a word, they began exhuming it. Working from the waist up, they slowly revealed the identity of the graves owner.

Uncovering the face, they both drew back from the grave.

 **“It’s Davie.”** They both simultaneously said in surprise.

They both stared down at their dead neighbor in surprise. Neither of them expected their sweet-tempered neighbor to be a part of the carnage displayed across the camp. His brother, Justin, maybe. But not, Davie.

Matthew voiced the question they were both thinking. “Why the hell would Davie be dead and in this grave? Did something attack him?”

“Actually,” Alfred picked up the arm on his side of the mound and lifted it for his brother to see. “I think it’s more of a **someone**. These look like Gil’s teeth to you?”

Matthew peered across the grave and studied the teeth marks engraved into the bones of the hand and wrist devoid of flesh. 

He nodded in confirmation. “Yah, that’s Gil’s.”

Alfred let out a low whistle as he set the arm back down. “Looks like he sheared the flesh off and poor Davie here bled to death. Remind me to never piss that guy off. Looks like your boyfriend gave back as good as he got.”

“Actually, he was holding back. If he’d intended to kill them all, there’d be a lot more graves then just this one.”

Alfred looked at his twin sharply. “You’re kidding me. Right, Bro?”

Matthew looked over at Alfred. Completely serious. “No. I’m not. When I escaped into the Dark Woods, I was cornered by a wolf pack. Gil saved me by fighting their Alpha and killing him.”

He held up the black fur cloak he wore for emphasis. Alfred’s eyes widened. The cloak was **huge**.

“A few weeks later, I esc-wandered off and was attacked by Kuma’s mother. Again, he saved me by killing the threat. Both times, as I watched and with only his bare hands. If Gil wants something dead, **it dies**. End of story.”

Alfred just shook his head and refused to dwell on any of it. He’d rather his body wasn’t paralyzed with awe and fear at that exact moment.

Matthew turned back to look down at the body. “But, if he’s not here. Then where is he?”

Both brothers shared a look before jumping into action. Quickly covering the body back up, they inspected the clearing and surrounding areas for clues. Both praying they didn’t find another grave.

They didn’t, but the blood pool under the tree beside the cabin didn’t exactly give them any fuzzy feelings. It was older and more plentiful than anything in the cabin, so it was a good bet it was Davie’s.

Continuing their search, Matthew noticed the biggest tree surrounding the clearing had recently been cut down. Alfred found marks in the dirt leading toward the village.

A large group of people had marched out of the clearing, heading for the village. Dragging behind them crude sleds heavy with something. A small trail of blood followed behind one of them.

The brothers locked gazes and Matthew stated what they both deduced. “They’ve taken him.”

Alfred nodded and bent down to inspect the tracks. “Yah, probably back to the village. If he killed Davie, then Machado has the right to execute him for it. Though, he’d need a written order of execution from the capital to do it. He’ll have to keep your boyfriend contained until he gets it. We can spring him before it comes.”

Matthew scoffed, his face scrunching up in disgust. “Please. As if that bastard has ever actually followed the law **or** proper protocol.”

He turned toward the cabin and Alfred rose to follow him as he continued. “He wouldn’t go through the trouble of chopping down the biggest tree around and dragging it back into the village unless they needed to build something big. He won’t wait for the capital to send the official order. He’s going to execute him in front of the whole village. And he’s going to do it **soon**.”

“Then we’ll just have to stop him before he does.”

Both brothers marched into the cabin with purpose. Alfred pulled back the trapdoor and dropped down first, continuing his march into the tunnel as he spoke.

As he did, a chorus of wolf howls went up from the wood. As if to wish them luck on their new mission.

“We’ll go back to the horses and ride back into the village. As far as everyone knows I’m still apprenticed to Fritz. If I show up and raise a fuss about protocol and ask to see his writ of execution, then it can buy us some time to get your boy out-! ……Mattie?”

His brother wasn’t following him.

“Mattie, come on. **Let’s go!** ”

Backtracking the way he’d come, he looked up at his brother. Still poised to drop down through the trap door; a look of equal parts determined stubbornness and sad regret on his face. Behind him, the pack howls drew closer and louder.

Alfred’s heart sank. Only he knew what that look truly meant. Only Alfred knew that no matter what he did, that expression meant his brother had made a decision. And no matter what he did or said, that decision wouldn’t be changed or retracted.

He tried anyway.

“Mattie, don’t do it.” He lifted his hands up to his brother to catch him. To plead with him. “Whatever you’re thinking right now. Whatever you’re about to do, don’t. Just don’t do it, Mattie. Come with me and we’ll save your man, Bro. **Together**.”

Matthew turned around and looked back towards the cabin’s door. Back towards the howls awaiting him outside.

“Mattie….”

His brother swung back around to look down at him, a sad smile gracing his lips. His eye’s tilted up with so much love in them. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this, Al. You gave up everything for me. I can’t tell you how much that means….”

**“THEN COME WITH ME!!!”**

Matthew shook his head.

“It’s not too late for you, Al. You don’t have to give up all you’ve worked for, **your dream** , for me. Go back to Fritz. Tell him you saw me escape and came after me. Tell him you tried to stop me, but I made it to the palace before you could. Tell him I made a break for the Dark Woods. Tell him that I made it inside the trees and you didn’t follow me and make the same mistake as last time. That you came back for his help.”

Alfred glared at his brother.  Heart heavy with both love and sadness. “And what will you do, Mattie? You can’t fight them all by yourself. You’ll die. Don’t follow that mans’ example. Don’t die just to save me.”

 “Yah, I’ll probably die.” His twin shrugged. “Either way, I’ll be with him. I have to at least try. And I’m not selfish enough to deprive this world of a great knight.”

Matthew lifted the lid of the trap door and said what would likely be his final words to his brother. “Goodbye, Al. I love you. You will always be my hero.”

**“MATTIE-!!!”**

The trapdoor slammed shut, separating him from his only family with a resounding crash.

One that mirrored the one in his chest.

“You suit each other. Idiot.”

He didn’t bother trying to climb the walls of the tunnel. He knew all too well it wasn’t possible.

Alfred turned on his heel and dashed blindly down the pitch-black corridor. Praying to any gods that would listen he didn’t get lost.

His only hope was to get to the horses.  If he could get to them, he could get to the village. He didn’t know his way through the woods, so he’d have to wing it. But he knew the basic direction of the village. If he booked it, maybe, just maybe, he could reach his brother before he got himself killed.

As he bolted through the darkness, a distorted howl lit up the space behind him. Spurring him to run faster.

“Mattie. You better not do anything stupid until I get there.”

 

*******

Matthew let out a heavy sigh and turned away from the trapdoor. If he didn’t, he’d go back and beg his brother to go with him.

He was scared. So very scared. His body felt chilled by the ordeal before him.

He’d been all anger and fire this entire time, but…. once he’d seen that grave. That was it. His flame died, and his hope disappeared. He’d thought he’d lost his Beast. He’d thought his world was gone.

Discovering it was Davie and not Gil inside the grave had rekindled the banked embers of his determination.

Of his hope.

But the seriousness of their situation finally hit him. He’d thought someone infinitely important to him had been killed. It brought into perspective how dangerous their mission really was.

And he wouldn’t lose someone else just to save his own heart.

The chances of saving Gil were unbelievably slim. He wouldn’t sacrifice his brother along with his own life.

_I wonder if this is how Gil felt when his brother was taken. When they found him in the Dark Wood. Was he scared too? Was he completely terrified beyond anything else at the choice he’d made?_

Matthew was many things, but he wasn’t a hypocrite. He supposed he now understood why Gil did what he did.

He was no different.

_In the end, you did what you had to to protect those you loved. You did what you had to to save **me**._

Furiously swiping away a few angry tears, Matthew walked over to the cabins’ doorway. From it, he called the pack to him with a booming, garbled howl.

He had no idea how they’d escaped from Fritz’s estate, but he was glad they had. Now, he wasn’t going completely alone.

Once he’d heard them calling for their Alpha, his decision had been made.

It was his responsibility to go after Gil. He hadn’t liked bringing Alfred into their escape plan in the first place, but he’d known he couldn’t save Gil by himself and with no weapon. He’d had no choice.

But with the pack, he **did** have a choice. And he chose to not risk his brother.

_If I can’t save, Gil. At least I can save you, brother._

Turning away from the door, he surveyed their desecrated cabin.

His love’s essence lay strewn about the room. His blood soaked into the grain of their place. Shows of his bravery and just how far he would go for his loved ones. Of the hell he would endure every single time for those precious to him.

Angry tears pricked his eyes and hatred and anger overtook his heart. This had been the last place for Gil in this world. And even that had been taken from him.

Never again would this place be their home.

Never again would this place be a reminder of his nightmares.

Matthew wouldn’t let it be.

Pushing the mattress once more over the trap door, Matthew walked to the left corner of the cabin beside the hearth.

Digging, he pulled up the supply of emergency reserves kept hidden in the dirt floor.

Hitting a rather large, hand-made wooden crate, Matthew pulled it out and pried the top off with the poker left burning in the hearth.

Reaching inside, Matthew pulled out what he was looking for.

Lamp oil.

They’d never used it, but Gil had shown him were it was in case of an emergency and they ran out of wood in the middle of a winter storm.

_Well, now is as much an emergency as ever._

Ignoring the box and its other contents, Matthew opened the glass bottle of lamp oil and dashed it around the walls and surface of the cabin; careful to avoid the still burning embers in the hearth. The wood drinking in the oil like it had Gil’s blood.

Discarding the empty bottle with a disgusted flick of his wrist, Matthew turned toward the door. As he passed the large, handmade crate, something caught his eye.

Turning toward it, he walked back and bent over to inspect what had teased the corner of his vision. Among the various emergency supplies hidden in the vessel, was a good-sized case with a small message engraved into the surface.

Squinting his eyes, Matthew used the limited skills Gil had begun to teach him during their long winter confinement.

Struggling for several minutes, he was finally able to decipher the message Gil had left for him.

****

**_Happy Birthday Birdie,_ **

**_Try not to go after too many Bears with this._ **

****

Matthew’s heart clenched as a memory from their winter together came unbidden to the front of his mind with the carved words.

They’d been trapped inside once again by a blizzard, and eventually the only thing left to do was talk.

For long hours.

About anything and everything.

After a few days, the topic of birthdays came up. Both Alfred and himself didn’t exactly know their exact birth date, but they did know it was in the middle of summer.

Gil on the other hand, knew his was January 18th. And that he hadn’t celebrated it in over ten years.

Upon hearing this, Matthew had decided then and there to do something special to celebrate with him. Taking weeks and weeks to gather and prepare the ingredients he would need, Matthew pulled together a full feast of pancakes and maple syrup for his wild companion.

Remembering Gil’s expression and how he’d wolfed down stack upon stack of the battered confection jolted a love fissure through the agony in Matthew’s heart.

Running a loving hand down the engraved box, Matthew drew in a sobbed breath. Equal parts afraid, yet eager to see what his lover had gotten him. What he’d hidden away to give him in the following months.

Proof that he really had chosen to keep him by his side and not send him away with the melting snow.

Sliding the engraved lid from it’s grooves, Matthew revealed his present.

And stared at it in stunned silence.

What had once been the L-shaped stick he’d used to fight Geno, had been crafted into a beautiful war club.

The whole stick had been cut down to maybe four feet in total. The long end was encased in clothe and treated animal hide to create a handle he could grip with either one or both hands. At the end of the weapons’ curve, a polished and round stone had been embedded and glued into the woods’ grain. A large, sharpened tooth spiked out of the end of the embedded stone. The underside of the curve held the bone of an animal’s jaw, sharpened into a blade resembling that of a field scythe. On the opposite side, a bear claw stuck out of the most prominent part of the club’s curve. Creating a hook to mirror the spike.

A glorious and beautiful weapon and tool. Made just for him, with love.

“You glorious, bastard. Just when did you have time to make this?”

Gripping the weapon in his hands, Matthew hardened his resolve and stood.

_I think you would have preferred the bears over what I have planned, Gil._

Taking off his shirt and cloak, Matthew tore the shirt into one long strip. Pinning one end under the mattress pressed against the oil sodden wall, he took up the poker and trailed the strip to the cabin’s door. The cloak tied around his waist and club hooked into it.

Once outside the doorway, Matthew used the white-hot end of the poker to light the dense cloth on fire. The flame ate the heavy fabric at an unhurried pace, slowly traveling toward the mattress.

Turning from the cabin’s imminent demise, Matthew strode over to the stump of the recently felled tree and the damp, grey clay clinging to it’s roots.

Taking up the wet earth, he smeared the ashen and smoky sediment over any visible skin and hair.

Painting himself for war.

Masking himself for the invasion.

As he stood from the saturated hole he’d excavated, Kuma sauntered over to him through the trees. Geno and the rest of the pack flanking him on either side.

Giving his pet an affectionate scratch behind the ears, Matthew climbed onto his back with purpose.

Turning his ursine mount, he directed him into a fast lope with his knees. Calling the pack to follow.

A heat blast went up from the cabin, as the mattress and oil drenched walls finally caught on fire.

Matthew didn’t look behind him to watch as his home became a funeral pyre for their memories.

He looked straight ahead.

He looked to the village where his love was held hostage.

He looked to the fight that was awaiting him at the end of these trees.

And his rage gripped both his heart and his club at what he knew he would find there.

 **“Hold on, Gil. I’m coming for you.”**  

 

*******

** German Translations: **

  1. Dummkopf = Idiot
  2. Ja = Yes
  3. Gör = Brat
  4. Vater = Father
  5. Sohn = Son
  6. Bruder = Brother
  7. Mein = Mine/My
  8. Mutter = Mother



** Russian Translations:  **

  1. Krassny = Red



** Danish Translations: **

  1. Nordlys = Northern Light



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone! Challenged here! So…..yah. Matthew is PISSED. Stuff’s gonna go down in the next chapter. Like, a lot. It’s gonna be great, so look forward to that! Also, my family took pity on me this Xmas and I finally got a new laptop! *sprays confetti everywhere* Woot Woot! Anyway, hope you guys liked this chapter! It was really hard for me to write (especially the first part), so hopefully it was worth it.  
> Matthew’s Weapon/Club was inspired/adapted from a few different Native American War Clubs. And Hockey sticks, cause….you know…..reasons. Here are a few pictures to give you guys some reference. We basically mashed a few together and threw our own twist on them.  
> Picture #1: https://www.google.com/search?biw=1366&bih=637&tbm=isch&sa=1&ei=8qVaWoS-Lp6jjwTwvp6wAw&q=native+american+weapons&oq=native+american+weipon&gs_l=psy-ab.3.0.0i13k1l9j0i13i5i30k1.205238.214821.0.216582.43.24.3.9.10.0.178.2045.10j10.21.0....0...1c.1.64.psy-ab..12.28.1794.0..0j0i67k1j0i30k1j0i8i30k1j0i24k1.110.xDntcxAeuxc#imgrc=h4Zz0TPkarqsCM:  
> Picture #2: https://www.google.com/search?biw=1366&bih=637&tbm=isch&sa=1&ei=8qVaWoS-Lp6jjwTwvp6wAw&q=native+american+weapons&oq=native+american+weipon&gs_l=psy-ab.3.0.0i13k1l9j0i13i5i30k1.205238.214821.0.216582.43.24.3.9.10.0.178.2045.10j10.21.0....0...1c.1.64.psy-ab..12.28.1794.0..0j0i67k1j0i30k1j0i8i30k1j0i24k1.110.xDntcxAeuxc#imgrc=fmDIrSjkQQ_eJM:  
> We’re almost at the finish line! I’m excited. Let us know what you think in the comments section! It’s pretty much what fuels our updates! Until next time! (^^)


	23. Chapter #21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Challenged here! Woot Woot! Another Chapter done! We’re almost finished! Here, enjoy some fighting and angst. Translations and other notes at the bottom. Hope you guys enjoy!

The chains clinked and dug into Gil’s already shredded and raw skin. His body hung, partially suspended by the chains trapping him to his execution platform.

His arms and legs strained on broken flesh and bone as the chains held him up against a tall wooden post made from the trunk of a tree. Limbs pinned to his sides and chest barely able to expand enough to pull in air. Head lolled down and too the side, both too injured and too tired to care. The timber the mob felled and brought along with him lay at his feet and over his legs. Propped for optimal coverage over his chain encased form.

_And here I’d vowed to myself I wouldn’t die in these chains._

He didn’t need to look at the villagers to know what their eyes held. He’d been here before. He already knew what expressions of horror and pity painted upon random spectators looked like.

Most whispered their fear and disgust at his appearance and what the Sheriff said he was. Though, it surprised him to pick up on a few hushed whispers from an elderly couple off to the side of the main crowd.

“Look at his eyes! His coloring. He must be a Bartian survivor.”

“Poor thing. All alone in the Dark Wood all this time. He couldn’t have been more than an infant when the massacre happened.  No wonder he resorted to cannibalism. It’s a miracle he’s alive at all!”

Gil looked up then and meeting the pair’s eyes, offered them a small smile of thanks.

They both blanched, before scuttling off to what he assumed was their lodging and ducked inside.

It was just as well, he didn’t relish the idea of how many people were about to find entertainment in the spectacle of his death.

The post took up center stage in the middle of the small village on a small rock platform slightly elevated off the ground. The trunk fit perfectly into a round slot to stand freely in the dais used for public announcements, events, and functions. The village spread out in a “u” shape. With the post and dais in the end of the dead end and a road scaling a tall hill leading out from the main buildings. The road led out of the village toward the humble cottages, stream, and hunter’s entrance to the Dark Wood.

Gil faced the road and the hill jutting up behind the crowd marveling at the monstrosity they’d captured.

The entire village had turned out to watch the mob drag his ruined self and the timber in. Spilling out of their homes and businesses to gawk as they tied him to the post.  To listen to the Sheriff’s spectacle of his hunt and the execution about to be performed.

Carlos stood upon his stage, between Gil and the crowd below them. Changed into his formal uniform and holding a mace at his side, engraved with the ceremonial symbol of his station. Sheriffs were always given such a weapon upon being sworn in. Gil recognized the mace as the weapon given to Carlos.

The man wasted no details of how he and the others had tracked him to his lair in the Dark Woods. Describing how he’d attacked them on sight and refused to answer their questions. How he’d killed a man named, Davie. Biting off his hand as he protected his brother and devouring it before their eyes. Dying in agony that night from the horrible wound.

Of course, the Sheriff wasted no exaggerations on how he’d **verbally** out-maneuvered Gil in conversation and gotten him to confess to brutally cannibalizing the village golden boy, among others.

Gil didn’t need to look up to know the crowd didn’t believe most of the Sheriffs’ story. They saw what condition the mob had brought him in. If any proof was needed as to how much these people had been victimized by the only power out here, it was right here.

All these people had either witnessed what had happened in the Dark Wood or could plainly see with their own eyes what the Sheriff spoke was a bent truth.

And no one was brave enough to call him on it. No one dared risk themselves or their families for a stranger. No matter how awful or unjust this treatment and execution may or may not be.

Carlos had done something to these people to cause them to lose their courage.

He had taken away their voice.

On and on their self-recognized savior spoke. Building up his own ego to his satisfaction. Gil didn’t care to listen.

So, he ignored it.

Any lie or truth said about what had happened wouldn’t change the fact he was about to die.

And he was glad.

He just wanted this all to end.

He was tired of it all.

And he just wanted to sleep.

_“Poppy…………”_

Gil felt a cold, soft hand on his cheek and pressed into the comforting palm. His eyes shut, a weary sigh escaping his mouth. A small smile fighting off some of his weariness.

The nightmare pressed a fleeting kiss to his hair and the hand retracted.

_“I’m so happy, Poppy. You’re mine again. You’ll never leave me now. We’ll be together forever. You’re almost here……...”_

_Me too, Locke. Me too………_

“Why are you smiling?”

Gil blinked his eyes open, staring blearily at the Sheriff, before registering his words.

The man was no longer speaking and was now facing Gil with the crowd avidly watching behind him.

Sneering, Gil replied. “I just realized I wouldn’t have to suffer your stench much longer. It’s quite disgusting. You really should bathe more often.”

Most of the crowd let out a collective gasp, while a few braver souls broke out in laughter. It was quickly silenced by a threatening glare from their Sheriff.

Turning back to Gil, he flipped his mace over and clutched it above the edged end with his long leather gloves. Swinging it underhand, he cracked Gil’s jaw from below with the handled end of his weapon.

The crowd gasped once more.

No one was laughing.

Gil’s head snapped back on his neck and his jaw fractured, blood gushing into his mouth from his split cheek. The right side of his mouth now extended past the summitry of its’ twin by the cut the blow had caused.

Forever giving his sneering grin a more feral tilt.

Carlos snorted and flipped his mace over once more before turning to the crowd and plucking a lit torch from someone’s hand.

He turned back to his prisoner, the flame of the torch mirroring the last rays of sunset behind him.

“Any last words, Monster? Perhaps some final regrets?”

Gil brought his head back down and spat out his blood all over the Sheriff’s boots before answering.

Staring him straight in the eye, he said, “Yes, but you are not worthy enough to hear them.”

Anger put there by the state of his boots only flared higher at Gil’s words. “Then let them die with you.”

Carlos lowered the torch to the timber pile at Gil’s feet and Gil raised his eyes to the starry sky above him.

In the light of the fire igniting his death pyre, the sparkling heavens took on the same pale violet as his Birdie’s eyes.

The kindling at the base of the pile caught, and Gil felt the first tendrils of heat reach his bare feet.

_I wish I could’ve spent more time with you, Matthew. With this, please be safe. I love you._

Bittersweet tears trailed down over his smiling lips.

A sudden wind fed the flames and the blaze licked over his feet and up his legs.

Pain shot up Gil’s spine and the rancid smell of burning meat filled the air as the nerves in his lower limbs were slowly stripped away.

Heat blotted out any moisture in his lungs and dried any tears before they could fall off his face. The liquid evaporating off his cheeks before it could make a full track to his chin in the soot blackening his agonized expression.

A few embers flew up singe his hair and eyelashes. His lungs burned almost as much as the fire eating him alive. Though his body struggled to breath, his mouth had no problem giving a voice to his pain.

Great harrowing roars of agony screamed their way through his throat, toward his only comfort.

To the heavens above.

To the only thing reminding him of why the pain was worth it.

His voice slowly lost its’ momentum as his lungs burned hotter with the flames licked their way up and over his knees and started in on his thighs.

The flames were insatiable and would not be satisfied with just his flesh alone. They devoured the air around him as well. Replacing it with the black soot born of his sacrifice.

His voice gave out and his vision started to go distort at the edges of his vision. Whatever strength he had left in his disfigured legs gave out to the pain and Gil sagged in his chains. His head lolling forward against his will.

Robbing from his last solace in this inhumane existence.

In his last waking moments, Gil registered the sound of screams not his own ringing out in the air before him.

……and……something else……...

His head lifted of its own accord and he took in the sight of the villagers in complete panic. Some shrieked and ran for the surrounding buildings, either trampling or picking up the children underfoot as they went. Still others stood in place, paralyzed and pointing at something up the hill.

**“IT’S THE BARTIANS!!!!”**

**“THEY’VE COME FOR THEIR TRIBESMAN!!!”**

**“IT’S A WAR PARTY!!!”**

**“A DEMON PHANTOM WAR PARTY!!!!”**

**“EVERYONE RUN!!!”**

**“HIDE THE WOMEN AND CHILDREN!!!!”**

**“THEY’LL KILL US ALL!!!”**

Gil raised his gaze toward something coming down the hill.

His red orbs widened as they met violet twins.

A lone rider sat atop a giant alabaster bear; a wolfpack flanking his charge on all sides down the ridge. His skin and hair smeared ashen and his arm raised; wielding a warclub with murderous intent. His lips cracked open over snarling teeth as the furious battle cry of a dying animal roared between them.

**_Birdie……_ **

Gil’s vision failed him, his lungs devoid of oxygen for too long.

And as he finally became one with his shadows, he was left with the parting vision of his beloved’s mount rising up in battle with the villain he had died to protect him from.

**_……...I failed………………………._ **

****

*******

Matthew leaned low over Kuma’s back. Willing his pet’s loping gate to go faster. The pack taking up ranks behind them.

They were nearly out of the Dark Wood, but the light was fading fast.

And he was too enraged to do the smart thing. Too emotionally drained to play it safe.

Carlos had done something unforgivable and either his neighbors would assist Matthew, or they would fight alongside the Sheriff.

Matthew would soon know which side they stood with when they arrived.

There was no time for deliberation; only action. He couldn’t, no, he **wouldn’t** be too late. He’d already lost Gil once today, he wouldn’t survive that loss a second time.

_I will not lose him. He is my Alpha. He is the man I love. He is my Gil, and I **will** take back what is **mine**. _

Though the thought remained buried deep in the back of his mind, Matthew despaired at what condition he would find his beloved. He’d obviously been brutally tortured in their own home. With all the blood left behind, a normal person would’ve already perished.

Matthew’s greatest fear was that he would by some miracle save Gil, only for him to succumb to his injuries.

The first line of wolves broke through the line of trees and onto the road beyond. Matthew sat up briefly to let out a howl for the front runners to halt. Slowing Kuma down to a sort of trot, Matthew too came out of the trees and surveyed where they’d emerged. The pack Beta’s bringing up the rear in place of their Alpha.

The dirt road was wide and clear, everyone obviously back from the fields for the night.

_Unless Carlos summoned them back……_

Matthew looked to his left and saw light of the village in the distance. Partially hidden by the drop the road took over the edge of the large hill leading into the main hub.

Turning east, he kneed Kuma into a full gallop and signaled the wolves to follow suit. En-masse they approached the village.

As they got closer, a large cut of fear sliced through Matthew’s middle. The hairs on his skin stood up in dreaded anticipation at what awaited just over the top of the hill. The murmurings of a large crowd gathered in the main square fluttered up from below.

Matthew became truly horrified as he realized something. The sun had set completely a mere minute ago, but he could still tell the exact position of the village over the cover of the hill before them.

There was too much light.

More elimination than a few candles, torches, or lanterns could produce.

Something had been lit on fire.

Something a hell of a lot bigger than a few simple beacons.

The pack reached the bottom of the hill and Matthew hustled them to keep their current speed on the sharp incline.

**“RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH………………………..!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”**

Matthew reared back in shock and recognition halfway up the hill at the roaring scream of sheer agony that projected up toward the night sky.

He knew who the voice belonged to instantly. He’d spent too many nights awake and huddled in the corner of the cabin; listening to the screams of a man broken by his past. A man chained to their cabin’s mantle as he fought against the monsters of his own nightmares.

He recognized the owner of that voice, but not the scream. The scream was different. The sound belonged to a completely different being.

It had no will.

It had no fight.

Forcing Kuma and the others to scramble harder up the incline, Matthew crested the slope.

…….and stopped.

Everything stopped.

The world around Matthew ceased its rotation.

Nothing existed. Not the crowd. Not the pack. Not Carlos.

Not even sound lived here. Just the deafening roar of the silence around him.

All that was was the the sight of his man.

His Gil.

His Beast.

Burning alive right before his eyes. Sacrificed upon the alter of his past. Purifying his sins in hellfire.

Dying.

Willingly.

For Him.

His head thrown back in anguish and defeat. The flames reflecting twice as bright off the black soot engulfing his being. His eyes open and pleading with the sky. His lips smiling happily up at the stars. As if they alone would bring his salvation.

Pure rage and animalistic hatred coursed through Matthew down to his very marrow.

In that moment, he didn’t see his neighbors and friends look up in horror at his dreadful visage.

He didn’t hear the cry of all-encompassing violence erupt from the deepest parts of his soul.

He didn’t feel his arm raise his war-club high overhead.

He didn’t feel the squeeze of his knees against Kuma’s sides.

And he didn’t feel the flux of caustic air rush past his face as the pack rampaged into the guilty throng before them.

The only thing Matthew felt, was the sheer emotion of disbelief and utter failure found in the held connection he shared with Gil’s eyes.

Until those red gems closed.

And did not open again.

 

*******

Carlos didn’t know what to think. His mind raced between making sense of the chaos suddenly erupting around him and defending against the terrifying invasion suddenly converging upon them.

_Why? Why now? I’ve had their man for two days. Why are they attacking **now**?!?!_

He hopped down off the stone dais and stepped forward to meet the threat head on. The villagers screamed and ran for their lives. A few men staying outside to defend against the wolves now at the doors of the buildings around them. The women, children, and others cloistered safely inside.

Carlos paid them little more than a glance. Frankly, he didn’t care who all survived. As long as he lived, that’s all he cared about.

And he had his hands full.

Only one human seemed to be a part of the attack. Leading in a pack of wolves and riding a ghostly bear the size of a quarter horse. Carlos supposed he didn’t need any more comrades to achieve his goal.

Carlos grinned as the leader of the attack road his mount directly for him; a single white she-wolf flanking the bear. Still high off the bloated ego his successful “Beast Hunt” had caused.

_Only one head to this snake? Too easy._

The roaring Bartian bore down on him, charging for him at full force. The ursine mount reared up in before him and Carlos lifted his mace to defend against the attack.

An attack that never came.

**“Hopp!!!”**

The bear rose up in front of him, but it didn’t come back down. Instead, the bear jumped over head and landed behind Carlos on the stone dais.

The white wolf occupied all his attention then, and he couldn’t turn to see when the rider and bear were doing.

But as the sudden thud and creak of the wooden pillar sounded behind him, he didn’t need to see to know the bear had toppled the pillar over and off the dais.

The white wolf circled him, growling menacingly and snapping at him in quick successions. Carlos stayed with the wolf, turning with it as it rounded on him, time and time again. Making sure to never leave his back open.

Behind him, he could hear the creaks and groans as the chains were loosened from the pillar. The Baritan hissed as he attempted to remove the flame heated chains with his bare hands.

**“Kuma! Packen!”**

The chains screeched and with a wrenched pop, Carlos knew his prey was getting away.

His eyes narrowed on the wolf still attempting to tear into him.

_I don’t have time for small fry like you._

Drawing his mace down, he flipped his wrist from over-hand to underhand.

And struck.

Opening himself up with the drawn-back stance of an underhand attack, he intentionally drew the bitch in. When she surged in to rend into his exposed midsection, he struck.

Bringing the mace around, Carlos intercepted the she-wolf’s leap and bashed the side of her muzzle with such force, he tore off the bottom half of her jaw.

The wolf let out a high-pitched yelp and fell to the side from the weight of the blow. She lay there on her side, shivering and convulsing; too dazed to stand.  Gore and brain tissue dripped off both Carlos’s mace and the hole on the underside of her exposed skull.

With her last breath, the bitch whimpered a parting goodbye to her pack.

The booming mewls of a frightened bear cub preceded the thundering gate of the bear behind him. Carlos ducked out of the way, just in time to avoid being trampled by the white monstrosity.

To his utter amazement, the giant whelp proceeded to nuzzle and attempt to wake the dead she-wolf. Curling around the carcass and crying over her dead body like a child would its murdered mother.

**“Kuma! Get back here!”**

Carlos turned to the Bartian calling his mount.

The man knelt hunched over his comrade, now unchained and lying deathly still and in a heap on the ground. The broken and clawed up chains at his side.  The pillar behind him. A club-like weapon at his feet.

Carlos grinned ferally at his next trophy.

_I’ll burn his body alongside his dead comrade. Their mixed ashes will make such a pretty color._

“Your bear’s too busy crying over the dead bitch. Why don’t you play with me instead?”

The Bartian stilled as he caught sight of the wolf behind him. Taking a deep breath, he clenched his club with the burnt pads of his fingers and stood.

Straightening to his full height and leveling his weapon on him, the Bartian lifted the hood of his black-fur cloak and stared Carlos down with roiling violet eyes.

The grin dropped from the Sheriff’s face.

Instant recognition and fury sped through Carlos as the Bartian pulled back the hood.

Except he wasn’t a Bartian.

He wasn’t the Beast’s comrade at all.

Carlos saw right past the ashen disguise smeared across the young man’s face.

And saw the toy the Beast had stolen from him.

**_“YOU!!!!”_ **

His plaything’s lips turned up in a deprecating sneer and he waved his club in a come-hither taunt.

**“Come and get me you piece of shit!”**

 

*******

Matthew watched calmly as his attempted rapist came for him.

He watched with a kind of detached perspective only shear fury and exhausted adrenaline could afford. For once, not shaking in the presence of the brute advancing on him.

It was as if this was happening to another person entirely and not himself. Like he was just a spectator watching someone else live his worst imaginings as they unfolded before him.

It was someone else who’s lover lay crumpled in a lifeless heap behind them. Someone else who couldn’t tell if the burnt offering at the foot of this alter was just that. A body, sacrificed and done. No longer fit to remain here among the living and lost to the gods.

It was someone else who couldn’t save Gil from his injuries.

Matthew didn’t know and that scared him more than anything else right now. He didn’t know if his lover was alive. There was room for doubt.

And anything else came up short in comparison to that doubt.

Nothing else caused the sort of numb malevolence he felt in this moment.

Not even Carlos.

The Sheriff drew closer and Matthew welcomed it. He **invited** the chance to wreak violence on the person responsible for his doubt.

His adversary drew closer, eyes wide with fury and Matthew smiled serenely.

_I just don’t care anymore……_

Carlos lifted his mace high overhead and brought it back down.

Matthew lifted his own weapon in defense and ducked forward, raising his other hand to take a swipe at Carlos’s face. The fist connected, and Matthew felt the pressure of the bones in his left hand break.

He didn’t gasp, he didn’t scream out in pain. Numb to everything but his anger.

Matthew threw off opponents’ balance with the surprise attack and the mace missed its mark on his club. Bringing up his right knee, Matthew kneed the man in his testicles. When the Sheriff doubled over from the pain, Matthew bit over his ear. Flipping the club in his hand, he shot it upward. Ramming the flat side of the club into Carlos’s jaw. Snapping it shut and cracking his head up and to the side.

His ear did not follow as he stumbled slightly to the side. Howling in surprise at the pain as he went.

Matthew watched with a detached amusement he didn’t recognize. A sadistic glee foreign from his usual personality.

Spitting out the offending bit of cartilage, Matthew smiled sweetly around the blood staining his teeth.

“What’s wrong, Carlos? Don’t you like it? Now you can match with Henry and Eric.”

Carlos paused in his howling and met Matthew’s gaze. Straightening from his hunched position, he removed his hand from the gushing pit where his ear once was and growled out his frustration and anger.

**“You. How dare you! You are mine and you let yourself be held by that monster! You let him soil you from the inside and infect you! Let him _taint_ you! You ran to him! You gave him what was mine!!!!”**

Matthew cocked his head and smiled with the same detachment he felt. It didn’t matter what this man said. All that mattered to Matthew now was Gil, and Carlos had hurt him. So, Matthew didn’t care about what was said.

He cared about making Carlos pay for what he had done. “I was never yours to begin with, Carlos.”

Matthew leveled a baleful stare on the Sheriff. His voice calm and ringing with truth. “And you are the monster. Not him.”

Carlos ran at him then, and Matthew welcomed it. Swinging his mace overhead, the Sheriff brought it down in a clear line for Matthew’s smiling face. His opponent was fighting with only his anger and ego, and Matthew took advantage of it. Easily side stepping his attack, Matthew turned with the movement and slashed Carlos in his side with the hook on the back of his war club.

The accessory cut into one of his rib bones and dug out a portion of the marrow with it. Carlos raged more at the wound and continued to throw over exaggerated and miscalculated swings at Matthew.

Matthew in turn dodged and injured Carlos repeatedly. A spike to his foot. A crushed forearm. A slashed leg. Over and over, Matthew continued to dish out blow after blow. His numbness giving him an advantage.

A cold rage that fueled him.

A mission to torture Carlos to death.

The villain slowly began to lose strength, his energy wasted in his anger. His clothes shredded and his body slowly draining of blood. Carlos wouldn’t die from his wounds, but that didn’t mean he could defend himself with them.

And as his anger slowly spilled from his body like his blood, he began to realize his predicament.

Matthew knew the instant Carlos became desperate. He saw the change in his expression and the shift in his stance. He was no longer offensive, but defensive.

He circled Matthew, trying to find an opening and finding none. Matthew let him. He waited and turning with him, let Carlos tire himself out even further. He prolonged the situation for his own satisfaction. Taking sadistic joy in knowing the Sheriff knew he was toying with him.

A loose cannon seeping with anger and nothing to lose. An enemy numb from too much emotion.

That numbness lifted slightly when Carlos paused his rotation around Matthew.

He stopped moving. Eyes blown wide in disbelief and horror. His gaze never leaving the prone form now laying a few feet directly behind Matthew.

He knew it was a trap. He knew in his head there was no way Gil could be okay. There was no way Gil had opened his eyes. No way he would be alright once Matthew turned to look.

Matthew knew all this, and it didn’t matter. Because if he was wrong and he didn’t look now, he might never see his Gil’s smile ever again.

He might never get the chance to tell him he loved him.

So, he turned his head and looked over his right shoulder.

And just as he’d known, it was a trap.

Gil hadn’t sat up. He hadn’t opened his eyes. He hadn’t moved.

He still lay there, crumpled and still. Only the cold dirt to soothe his burns.

The pyre still burning on the dais cast shadows over the ground before him. Within them stood a man with a blunt object raised. Matthew lifted his left arm against the strike he knew was coming.

The shadow brought his weapon down and Matthew went flying. The impact of the mace splintering his forearm and smashed through the limb and into his skull with the force of the blow.

Matthew faintly registered he was no longer standing before his ribs slammed into the toppled wooden post. He gasped around his spotting vision as the air left his lungs.

His mind and senses were muddled. He couldn’t stand, and he couldn’t fight.

And just like that, he’d lost.

A single moment had turned the tide of this battle.

A single decision had sealed his fate.

Matthew felt more than heard Carlos approach him from behind.

_I want to see him one last time……_

Matthew couldn’t stand, but he could crawl. So, crawl he did. He crawled over to Gil, while Carlos laughed in victory behind him. He didn’t mind him. He only focused on his beloved.

Coming up beside him, Matthew wiped his hands on the cloak before pushing Gil’s singed and filthy hair off his face. Where it had once been long and somewhat tangled, it was now burnt off nearly to his skull. Giving him a more child-like visage in his slumber.

Matthew placed both hands on either side of Gil’s face and studied it with a grateful and relieved laugh. There was no hint of the agony he’d just experienced in his expression. His brows remained relaxed and a small, soft smile gave his lips a kind of plumpness Matthew had never seen before.

Like this, he looked as if he were actually sleeping.

He looked safe.

Twin tears fell from violet eyes to wash two rivers through the soot marring his alabaster skin.

“Wha’do you know, Gil. Looks like we’ll finally be able to sleep peacefully together.”

“There is no peace for Demons like him.”

Matthew huffed a small, uncaring laugh at Carlos. He knew nothing.

The numbness that once morphed his hatred into clinical precision now served a different purpose. It dampened his fear of what he knew was about to happen.

He was about to die.

And strangely enough, he was okay with it.

Even though this was the end, he knew it would be alright.

Because he would be with Gil.

Matthew smiled a little sadly at the thought. If he didn’t still have Carlos’s blood on his teeth, this would make a perfect moment for their last kiss.

Instead, Matthew closed his eyes and rested his forehead against his lovers’. Happy in his last moments as he waited for Carlos to bring down the death blow.

  ** _SSSSSSSSSSSCCCCCCCCCCCRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_**

**_“AAAAAHHHH!!!! AAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!! FUCK!!! GET OFF ME!!! AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!”_ **

The deafening sound of the eagle screech shattered Matthew’s numbness as deftly as it shattered his eardrums.

His body shot up into a surprised sitting position and his eyes popped open wide. He turned to look at the calamity ensuing behind him just in time to witness a single-footed, black Golden Eagle pluck an eyeball out of Carlos’s face.

**_“AAAAAHHHH!!!! MY EYE!!! IT TOOK MY EYE!!!”_ **

Matthew sat, still hunched over Gil in stunned disbelief. His concussed brain not able to fully understand what was happening.

He turned moments later to peer up the road at the thundering sound of numerous hooves barreling out of sight up the other side of hill. As the sound came closer and crested into view, Matthew received an even bigger shock than the sight of Gilbird coming to his rescue.

Prince Ludwig lead the way into the village, closely followed by a small entourage. Lars rode in closely behind his Prince, while Fritz and his brother Alfred took up the rear and two men he didn’t recognize road in the middle. One foreign with long black hair and the other with short blond hair with what appeared to be a near permanent scowl on his face.

Matthew was so stunned and dazed he forgot to breath.

_Ludwig…..Ludwig is here…..the Prince is here……he really came and he’s………………_

**_Riding a unicorn?_ **

As he rode over the crest and into the chaos of the village below, the Prince’s face took on stony set. He quickly took in the scene and as his eyes landed on Matthew, his frown formed a dark edge.

He urged his black mount into a charge down the incline and straight for Matthew. Matthew felt Carlos step up behind him and once more crouched over Gil. Trying in what he knew was a vain attempt to shield him from the blow he wasn’t so ready for this time.

The air whooshed over his head and the earth shook under his already trembling palms. Matthew didn’t see it, but he heard the steed rear up behind him and the metallic slide of a sword leaving its scabbard. A sharp clang of metal against metal rang out and Carlos yelped in pain as a dull thud sounded behind him. The quake of the black mount coming back down to earth followed close behind.

**“Lars! Restrain him!”**

The Prince’s voice boomed out over the residing hysteria. Commanding the situation in an instant. Obliterating any outcomes not of his choosing with a mere whim of his will.

The clomp of heavy hooves came up beside Matthew on the other side of the wooden post. He peered up and up to where Ludwig sat in the saddle. His eyes widened, and he blink excessively; dazed and not quite understanding what was happening.

“Matthew. Call off the wolves.”

Matthew continued to blink up at him.

**“Matthew. Call off the wolves.”**

A horse drew up on his other side and someone dropped down right next to him. Matthew flinched at the foreigner’s sudden appearance. The man reached out toward Gil and frozen thread of panic and dread coursed through him.

He didn’t know this man.

He might hurt Gil.

Matthew lashed out at the man and a coarse growl grew deep in his chest to leak out between them.

**_“YOU STAY AWAY FROM HIM.”_ **

The rest of the pack took up the growl behind them. Within seconds the entire village center had been encircled in a chorus of dark rumbling. The wolves left their guarding stations in front of the buildings and surrounded the threat. All except for Kuma, who left the dead Geno’s side to trot up to Matthew. Snapping at the horses as he went.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Mattie, it’s okay! Relax, Bro!”

Matthew snapped his head around at the sound of his twins’ voice. His brother hopped off Star and walked up to him slowly, he arms outstretching in a non-threatening and placating manner.

“Bro, it’s okay. No ones gonna hurt your man. You did good, you kept him safe. Now let us help.”

Matthew ceased the low hum in his chest and sat up a little as his brother approach. “Al.”

“Yah, Buddy it’s me.”

Alfred sank down to his knees and pulled Matthew into a tight hug. “This is Yao, Mattie. He’s a Guild Master, Bro. And the best healer in the whole kingdom. Probably the world. He’s not gonna hurt, Gil. He’s here to help him. But you gotta let him, Mattie. You need to call off the wolves and let him do his thing, okay?”

Matthew’s body started shaking, his body exhausted with relief.

_He’s a healer……They brought a healer……Gil…...he’s going to be okay……_

Hot tears drenched the front of his brothers’ shirt and a low howl of dismissal fell from his lips. The chorus of growls stopped, and the pack members sat where they were. Waiting for his next order.

Matthew hickuped before leaning back, lifting his head and hoarsely howled out the call for home. The call to return to pack territory.

The members took up the howl with him and one by one they all loped off between the buildings and once again returned to the Dark Wood.

Except for Geno.

The man named Yao stepped forward again, his arm out-stretched and his eyes on Gil. This time, Matthew drew back slightly and allowed the man access to his lover. His gaze tracking the man’s every move.

Yao quickly assessed Gil with a quick and efficient sweep of his gaze. His frown etching deeper in his expression the more he took in. He took two fingers and pressed them to the side of Gil’s neck. Expelling a deep huff out his nose after a minute.

Matthew didn’t know if that was very good or very bad.

The man looked up and met Ludwig’s gaze with a shake of his head. “It’s not good.”

The Prince’s eyes narrowed, and his face darkened. “Get him out of here Yao. Do whatever you can for him. Resuscitate him if you must.”

Yao nodded solemnly before reaching into the pack at his side and pulled out a long swatch of sturdy fabric. Unrolling it, he pointed it to Fritz, Alfred, and the unknown blonde man in turn.

“You, you, and you. We move him very carefully onto fabric, then lift as one and carry inside. Come!”

Matthew knelt there, his head still feeling like it was stuffed with cotton. As the others transferred Gil and lifted him, all Matthew could focus on was how stilted and foreign the healer’s speech was.

The four men walked carefully and in unison as to not jostle Gil as much as possible. A weird, curved tube of fabric kept his head from rolling from side to side. Deputy Jose stood in the doorway of the jail house and Sheriff’s office, ushering them in to the cots in the back.

Matthew willed himself to his feet and smiled slightly when he only felt minimal dizziness that quickly receded upon standing. He took a step toward the jailhouse when Ludwig called out to him.

“Matthew.”

Matthew turned to look up questioningly at the Prince sitting majestically upon his black unicorn. Ludwig met his gaze with a pinched frown.

He looked to his right and Matthew followed his gaze to where Lars had Carlos pinned beneath him. His grumbling and belligerent face mashed harshly into the ground.

“Is he Sheriff Carlos Machado?”

Ludwig turned back to face Matthew and Matthew followed suit; locking eyes with the Prince.

“Is he the one who did this to him?”

Matthew didn’t need to ask who **him** was. He understood what Ludwig was asking him perfectly. Matthew looked over at Carlos before turning back to Ludwig and answering him with a single affirmative nod.

The Prince’s jaw ticked, and a cruel edge sharpened his glare to a dangerous degree. He turned his mount to face the two men in the dirt and without looking back replied. “Thank you. Go to Yao and send back the others. I want them present for this.”

Matthew didn’t bother to wait and see what the Prince had planned. He took off toward the jailhouse and didn’t look back.

 

*******

Ludwig listened as Matthew scurried off. His heart shaking with emotions he hoped didn’t show on his face. He needed to project an air of control and command, not the enmity ripping through him like a tidal wave of violence.

He’d purposely refused to look at his brother. Distinctively kept himself from gazing at the crumpled mass lying sickly still under Matthew. He couldn’t bare to look at his brother’s state. If he did, he knew he would lose it.

His brother didn’t need protecting. **He** protected.

He wasn’t sure what he would do if he saw him as a victim.

Instead he focused his gaze on the man responsible for his brother’s current plight, Sheriff Carlos Machado.

Lars had the man pinned under him with his face in the dirt. Despite the obvious futility of it, he still tried to escape his Second’s hold.

_You’re going to wish Lars was the worst of your worries._

Ludwig was pleased to see the man was quite damaged from the obvious fight Matthew had given him. The young blonde had sustained his own injuries, but it appeared he’d met his attacker on equal footing. Blood still flowed from several cuts and grooves carved out of his body. His hair and face coated in it from where an ear had been removed.

He wondered what Matthew had been aiming for if he’d missed and taken off his ear instead.

Footsteps came running up from behind and Fritz, Alfred, and Vash halted beside his steed. “Any progress?”

Fritz shook his head forlornly. “Honestly my boy, I don’t know if there is anything **to** be done. Yao is doing his best, but to be frank, he has so many injuries, so many **fatal** wounds, Yao isn’t sure which ones to treat first and which ones to leave for later. He’s doing what he can, but it might not be possible to help him at this point.”

As he finished speaking, a large boom like the thunder of a storm blasted from the direction of the jailhouse.

They all looked to the source of the noise. As they did, the sound called out a second and then a third instance. Each time the thunder roared, a flash of blue light flared in the lone window of the structure.

Pain, harsh and quick temporarily replaced the animosity residing over Ludwig.

The cold reality was, his brother probably won’t live. And seeing it is far different than just imagining it.

Turning back to pin the Sheriff with his hard stare, Ludwig didn’t turn to the three men beside him as he gave out the order. “Bring the wooden pillar there and place it so it lays flat across the stone stage. Make sure the fire is far enough out of the way first.”

He didn’t wait for a reply and urged his mount, Conrad forward past Lars his charge. “Bring him up on the stage. The others are bringing the column up. I want him standing behind it with his feet touching the wood. Make sure he is facing the road.”

Lars grunted his acknowledgement and hauled the Sheriff up to his feet before directing him over to the platform.

Ludwig continued past them to make a large circle of the village square. Making sure he was seen by each person peering out the windows of the building.

Taking a deep breath, he called out the villagers huddled inside.

**“Citizens of the Dark Wood village! I am Prince Ludwig Beilschmidt of Gegend! I am here to serve you as an enforcer of honor and justice! The wolf pack has retreated, and the threat neutralized. Please come out so we can greet each other properly!”**

Ludwig brought Conrad back to the stone platform and swung over his saddle to hop up on its surface. The stallion waited patiently for him to dismount before trotting off to the side of the dais to watch and wait patiently for his rider to call him.

Ludwig stood at the front of the stage, also facing the road, and to the left of Lars and the Sheriff. Fritz, Alfred, and Vash, now done with their tasks, stood behind and on either side of the captive to ensure he didn’t escape. The pyre for his brothers’ execution blazed on at the back of the dais behind them.

A few minutes passed in collective silence until the villagers slowly but surely began to trickle out of their safe havens. As the crowd grew and swelled, Ludwig took notice of the shape the villagers were in.

They were all clothed, but most didn’t wear shoes and the clothes they did have were worn and patched. Most appeared rather gaunt, but not starved enough to be emaciated. Most of the buildings around them were old and either falling apart or in desperate need of some repairs. Even the tools some of them still clutched to as weapons were old and rusted.  They weren’t being starved to death or left to the elements, but the numbers just didn’t add up.

Ludwig had reviewed the accounts of the village going back the last twenty years before setting out. The village was taxed thirty-five percent of their overall sales from crops and other goods. According to the numbers submitted to the capital, their crop outputs had more than doubled from the favorable rains the past few years. They should not be in this near state of destitution. On the contrary they should be thriving.

Unless the one in charge of gathering taxes in the region were to collect more than he should.

Ludwig had written proof of the Sheriff keeping taxes for the crown for himself. It appeared he also had proof of him stealing from the villagers he was sworn to serve as well.

But even after all that, what truly concerned Ludwig about the villagers’ state was how they looked at him.

Most people looked at him with a small amount of respect and awe. It was something he’d grown used to as he’d grown into his title. But, these people didn’t look at him that way. They looked at him with the fear of someone faced with a wild animal. Uncertain of what he wanted and what he would do to them.

And as he looked closer, he noticed more and more villagers had some rather bizarre and unexplainable injuries. He spied to women with whip marks on their forearms. An older man was missing both his hands and another younger one beside him had more bruising than face from a severely broken nose.

Towards the front of the were two boys he recognized from one of the reports sent to him from the village Deputy. They both shied away from him when l they caught him looking at them.

And they both only had one ear.

Ludwig closed his eyes before speaking. _Why is there always **someone** willing to subjugate others to cruelty for their own gain?_

Opening his eyes, he spoke to the crowd like the Prince he was. **“First. Is anyone severely injured or in immediate need of a healer?”**

A small shock went up from the crowd at his question and Ludwig repressed the frown that emerged when a few of their murmurings drifted up to him.

“Did he actually ask if we were okay?”

“I didn’t realize a noble was capable of caring about people like us.”

“He doesn’t mean it. Since when has the crown ever cared about us?”

Ludwig cleared his throat but before he could try again, the man with no hands and his companion with the broken nose came forward. They stepped to the front of the crowd and waited for his permission to speak.

Ludwig granted it with a nod.

The old man lifted a stubby hand to cough into before starting. “Your Highness. Please forgive our rudeness, but why are you restraining our Sheriff?” He paused, “And more importantly, what have you done with the Beast he was burning?”

The crowd joined in behind him and shouted for answers. Ludwig raised his hand for them to silence.

“The **Beast** , as you call him, is in the jailhouse being treated by our healer.”

The crowd gasped and lit up with objections and criticisms. The young man with the broken nose spoke the loudest.

“What do you mean he’s being treated? That monster killed and ate our people!!! How can you save him when you should be executing him?!?!”

The crowd shouted out their agreements.

Ludwig held up his hand once more. “What are the names of the people he has killed?”

“Alfred!”

“Alfred!”

“The Beast killed, Alfred!”

“He was in training with General Frederick! The monster got him too!”

“…. There was someone else, too. Alfred’s brother. Do you remember his name?”

“……Alfred had a brother?”

Ludwig raised a brow and turned to his men at the back. Motioning with his hand, he signaled Alfred to step forward.

The young page stepped around Lars and the Sheriff to the front of the platform. As soon as the crowd caught sight of him, dead silence permeated the air.

Alfred to his credit, just smiled stupidly and waved to them. “Hi, guys!”

The villagers cried out their relief and some even grabbed at his legs. So happy in the knowledge that he wasn’t dead they needed to affirm he was real.

“Alfred!”

“It’s Alfred! He’s alive!”

“I’m so happy you aren’t dead!”

Alfred laughed and just kept on smiling and waving. Behind him, Fritz also stepped forward. Alfred threw his arm over Fritz’s shoulder and pointed at him to the crowd.

“This guy is my Master, General Frederick! He didn’t get killed either! And my brother, Mattie! He’s okay too! That guy didn’t kill anyone!”

The crowd went up in cheers again only to be stopped by a single voice.

“But he did kill somebody!”

The villagers turned as one to stare at the young man with the broken nose. All but the man himself, he stared only at Ludwig.

“H-he killed my brother, Davie. We all saw it! We went into the Dark Wood and captured him. While we were questioning him, he did **that** to Davie! He didn’t survive, and we buried him there.” Tears spilled over his eyelids and his voice began to waver. “Y-you can’t save that **thing** when he murdered my brother!”

More agreements from the crowd.

Ludwig looked to Alfred and internally cringed when he nodded his verification of what the young man said. His mind scrambled to find a solution to this problem.

“Once his condition is stable enough to travel, he will be moved and contained in the capitol while an investigation takes place. Once what you witnessed is confirmed, he will be sent to trial, found guilty, and then executed for his crime.”

The brother was not appeased. “Why should we wait! We already know he’s guilty, we all watched him do it!” He looked back at the crowd and several men shouted in verification. “We should kill him here and now?!?!”

The crowd shouted for blood and Ludwig bit the inside of his cheek. This is not how this was supposed to go at all.

Just as he was about to tell everyone to shut up, Yao scrambled up the back of the dais and came up to Ludwig’s side. The crowd saw him and hushed to hear was Yao said.

Ludwig looked at Yao and his heart cracked a little. The man didn’t look happy. “Yao, do you have something to report?”

Yao looked at the crowd and looked back to Ludwig. Speaking clear and loud enough for everyone to hear, he delivered the news.

“Your Highness. I did everything I could, but it was not enough. He did not make it.”

At the end of his report, Yao pointedly looked at Ludwig and very distinctively thumped his fist against his chest three times.

Ludwig closed his eyes and gathered the surge of emotion that hit him with the news behind his mask. Opening them again, he turned to Fritz and Alfred.

“Go with Yao and help him take care of the body.”

They both nodded and quickly scurried off the platform behind Yao.

Turning once more to the crowd, he addressed the brother directly. “It seems your brother’s justice has already been meted out.”

Lifting his eyes to address the rest of the crowd, he turned them to the more pressing matter of business at hand.

“Now, to answer your first question. The reason your Sheriff is being restrained, is because he is under arrest for Treason against the Kingdom of Gegend.”

The villagers gasped in one gigantic huff. Many of them couldn’t believe they had heard him right.

The Sheriff himself went wild. Struggling against Lars with renewed vigor and thrashing his arms within their leather bindings. Profanities spewed from his mouth like sewage and if it was anyone other than Lars restraining him, he would have probably broken free.

“I did no such thing! Where is your proof?!?!”

Ludwig’s jaw clenched, and his eyebrows rose up in disbelief. “You want proof?”

He pointed to Vash, who reached into his satchel before stepping forward with a large stack of documents. Reaching the front of the stage, he lifted them overhead for the crowd to see.

“Will the records and here-say of Vash Zwingli, Chief Accountant of the Royal Treasury do?”

The man’s still remaining eye widened, and his struggles stopped temporarily in shock.

“Or maybe the accounts and reports of your own subordinate?”

The Sheriff looked up at Ludwig then in confusion. The perplexed look remained there on his face until a figure made his way through the crowd and stood before the stage.

The Sheriff’s face turned red with rage and disbelief. **“You!”**

The man smiled sweetly back at him, a hint of triumph in the tilt of his lips.

Ludwig stepped forward and offered his hand to help the man up. “Am I correct in assuming you are Deputy Jose?”

The man paused and looked up at Ludwig before finally taking the proffered hand. Clasping it, Ludwig helped him up onto the stage.

“Yes, however I’m afraid I might have bent the truth about my actual station. Sheriff Machado never actually officially appointed me as his Deputy. Though that didn’t stop me from being his lackey and acting as a buffer between him and the villagers. I’m sorry I lied in our correspondence, but I was afraid you wouldn’t take me seriously if I signed as just a regular citizen.”

Ludwig shook his hand once the man got his footing. “I’ll let it slide in light of the situation.”

Behind them, Machado laughed. “You can’t be serious. This man has been after my position for years. You can’t trust a word he says! He’s just another snake in the grass.”

Jose turned to his superior and graced him with a sidelong look of distaste. “On the contrary, every account I have taken can be verified not only by Mr. Zwingli’s records-,” Vash nodded his agreement, “but by at least one other person present here.” He turned the crowd, sweeping his arm to include the lot of them.

Turning back to the Sheriff he asked, “Or do you have another explanation as to why so many people are missing body parts in your district?”

A few people in the crowd tried to cover themselves in their meager clothing. Even more turned hard stares on their Sheriff.

Jose stepped toward him and sneered triumphantly right in his face. “You see, I do want what you have. I do want the power. But here’s the difference between you and me, **Carlos**. I’m not stupid or vain enough to think I would get away with not doing my job properly.”

Jose backed off a step and shrugged nonchalantly with one shoulder. “And that’s why you lose.”

Ludwig stepped forward and separated the two. “I think that’s enough. We should proceed.”

Turning back to look at the crowd before once more returning his gaze to Machado. “Carlos Machado, as Prince of the Gegend Kingdom I strip you of your station and title. You are hereby found guilty by the evidence presented and convicted of Treason to the Kingdom and its people.”

The villagers gasped, and a slow-starting cheer went up through their ranks. As if they couldn’t believe this was happening.  

Ludwig turned to Jose. “Kneel, please.”

Jose smiled a bit smugly but did as he was asked. Pulling his sword from its scabbard, Ludwig taped its flat edge on each of his shoulders before motioning him to rise. “I here-by appoint you, Jose, as the immediate and fully sanctioned Sheriff of this village and this territory. You may stand.”

The cheer this time was immediate and bolstering. The villagers obviously ecstatic over their new leadership. One of the children in the crowd attempted to lift the discarded mace before it’s parent took it up and handed it up to their new Sheriff.

Ludwig smiled at their happiness, but it soon vanished when he once again caught sight of Carlos.

There was still one more loose end to clean up.

He waited for the crowd to die down before he addressed the new Sheriff. “Sheriff Jose.”

The man turned to look at him, questions written all over his face.

“While my rank and title do out-weigh yours, I believe in cooperation and respect between the Judicial stations. Therefore, as this is now your territory to oversee, may I decree and carry out one last verdict here today?”

They both knew Jose couldn’t say no, but the ferally pleased look in the Sheriff’s eyes as he grasped the Prince’s intent was enough to get both of them excited.

It appeared they both were of like mind.

Stepping back and bowing to Ludwig with a sweep of his hand, he invited the Prince to do his worse.

“By all means, Your Highness. Feel free to do as you see fit.”

Ludwig turned on Machado and let the full force of his enmity and malice leak through his mask. Twirling his sword in hand he let the sound of it slicing through the air ring out between him and his quarry.

He wanted him to know what was coming. He wanted him to be afraid.

Meeting eyes with his terrified victim, he gave him a reason for that fear.

**“Lars. Put him over the post.”**

 

*******

 

The Prince stepped up to them as the man restraining him pushed Carlos to kneel and press his stomach into the charred bark.

Above him, he hurt the harsh song of the blade coming for him. Letting him know it would have him.

Carlos thrashed briefly before going still on the wooden trunk. The finality and futility of his situation hitting him with a sudden clarity.

He’d been caught.

He’d been caught, and his only way out was slicing the air in practice for his flesh.

**“Carlos Machado. I, Prince Ludwig Beilschmidt, for the crime of Treason against the Kingdom and its people, sentence you to death by beheading. As I believe it is crueler to make a man wait for his death than the actual execution, I will deliver your sentence now. Do you have any last words or confessions?”**

Prince Ludwig placed a foot up on the wooden post for extra leverage. Lifting his sword over his shoulder, he balefully stared down target.

Carlos looked up into the face of his executioner and his body shook at the dark shadow he saw there.

Death had come for him, and all he could do was beg.

“P-please…...have mercy…...”

The Prince narrowed his eyes and lifted his sword off his shoulder. Bringing it down in a mockery of gentleness, he lightly rested the blade on Carlos’s neck. Letting the blade have enough pressure to lightly scrape its sharp edge against his skin.

“This **is** a mercy. If I’d let myself succumb to my own whims I’d revel in watching my war-unicorn gore you to death. What you beg for is salvation. And I don’t grant that to people who have mutilated mein Bruder.”

The Prince removed the blade and brought the sword high over his head.

No hesitation.

No pity.

In a split second, all the dots connected, and Carlos truly understood his situation. He understood why the Bartian had bugged him. Why something had always teased the back of his mind about why he’d been alone in the Dark Woods.

He remembered the news bulletin of the Frist Prince and his sentence. He remembered the face on the page and the face of the Bartian he’d murdered with fire.

Carlos connected the dots and he understood.

He was going to die.

His body started shivering uncontrollably and he watched in horror as the muscles in his executioner’s arms flexed.

_No…..._

The blade caught the light of the fire behind them and cast a dark mask over the Princes’ face.

_No…._

The sword came down and Carlos didn’t feel his body move. His shivering muscles seized up involuntarily; surging him forward, farther over the wooden post.

**“NNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!”**

Carlos felt the edge cut deep into his spinal column. He felt the exactly where the blade separated his shoulder muscles from where they were supposed to connect. He felt the trickle of his blood weep over his sides. The sensation somehow more acute than the sting of the massive cut over his skin.

But he did not feel anything else.

He did not feel his legs.

He didn’t not feel his arms.

The only thing he did feel, was coarse heaving of his labored gasps.

And the regret that it wasn’t over yet.

**“Neuken!!!”**

“Lars. What happened?”

“His muscle spasms are moving him around too much. I don’t think it’s voluntary. You must have severed his spine. I can’t hold him steady for a clean cut.”

“You’re going to have to.”

**“Allow us.”**

Two men hefted themselves up onto the dais and made their way around. Carlos lifted his head and met the animalistic sneers of two villagers.

Eric and Henry’s fathers.

They moved behind him, but he didn’t feel it if they pinned down his limbs or not. His eyes focused slightly, and he looked out at the crowd watching his demise.

What stared back at him, was a sea of contempt and glee. Every single one of his sheep smiling with all teeth, as their shepherd was eaten instead.

Carlos lowered his head and waited.

The sword did not miss a second time.

The blade caught slightly on the bones in his neck, but after a quick tug and slice his head was severed.

His eyes remained open and his vision spun. The world quickly blotted out of existence as he rolled off the platform.

But before he hit the ground and his life turned off completely, a single image permanently branded itself in his villainous soul.

It was an image of four figures and a giant white bear sneaking into the Dark Wood behind the village inn. One rode the white bear to keep a massive, tightly wrapped bundle steady. Two others rode along either side of it on horseback.

But the fourth stayed behind.

The fourth held back to stand and watch as Carlos’s head was severed and rolled to the ground in a bloody spray.

And as those violet eyes met his through the shadow of the Dark Wood, they held no sadness.

Just simple, sadistic triumph.

*******

 

 

** German Translations: **

  1. Packen = Bite
  2. Hopp = Up/Jump
  3. Bruder = Brother
  4. Mein = My/Mine



** Dutch Translations: **

  1. Neuken = Fuck



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Challenged here! Now before everyone goes flaming us both into oblivion in the comments section for killing off Gil, go back and reread the very last bit of the chapter. We left you hints. Hint, hint.  
> That being said, you can totally flame me (not Talent) over the whole Ludwig riding a war-unicorn thing. I know some of you might not like it, but honestly a random image of Germany riding a badass unicorn popped into my head one day and it was just too delicious I had to.  
> Anyway, that’s pretty much the bulk of all the action and angst for this fic. Hopefully your feels can be salvaged, and you survived the metric ton of second-hand stress we made you read through to get here. Let us know in the comments section what you thought of the chapter or the story so far. Or to just say hi! It is always, always appreciated and fuels my updates! Until next time! (^^)
> 
> *Reference picture for Carlos’s Mace: https://images.search.yahoo.com/search/images;_ylt=A0LEV0FH8Wxav0sAuV1XNyoA;_ylu=X3oDMTE0ODNnOXFqBGNvbG8DYmYxBHBvcwMxBHZ0aWQDQjQ0ODBfMQRzZWMDcGl2cw--?p=mace&fr2=piv-web&fr=mcafee#id=1&iurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.props.eric-hart.com%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2015%2F11%2Fmace.jpg&action=click  
> **Reference picture of Ludwig’s War-Unicorn. His name is Conrad: https://www.google.com/search?q=black+unicorns&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjCgMblwfnYAhUE5oMKHfhmDl4Q_AUICigB&biw=1366&bih=637#imgdii=jDYq5SI6uho_8M:&imgrc=MuQXDfi3GwnHVM


	24. Chapter #22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Challenged here! Thanks for sticking with us through this crazy ride. Sorry this one took so long to update. I won’t lie, between life and the full-time day job I’m kinda getting burnt out. But, we know a lot of you were really looking forward to the updates, so here you go and enjoy! Please bear in mind we have very little medical knowledge and experience so take what is written in here for treatments with a grain of salt. We did do research, but we are not doctors and took several liberties. Notes and translations at the bottom. (^^)

Matthew sat at Gil’s side in complete and utter exhaustion. Ass asleep against the hard, stone floor of the old healer’s chamber in the Bartian ruins. Yao stood directly across from him, replacing the hanging bag of fluids somehow flowing through a long, thin tube into Gil’s neck.

Three days.

It had been three days since they’d rescued Gil and executed Carlos.

Three days of Gil **staying** on the precipice of death.

Three days of not knowing if he would make it.

To stabilize and piece him back together again.

Three days………

Retreating into the Dark Woods, Fritz had led them here. Knowing there was an old healers’ rooms in the ruins, he’d hoped it still had some supplies Yao could use. It was also secluded enough, they could treat Gil in peace.

Using the old blankets and whatever furniture they could salvage, Matthew and Alfred had refurbished the surgery and treatment rooms into a decent space to repair Gil. Complete with a makeshift cot, a chamber pot, and a few low tables for holding Yao’s tools and implements. A single hook had been pounded into the stone wall to hold the clear bags now somehow feeding Gil without actually feeding him. Another four hung down from the ceiling to suspend Gil’s limbs in their bandages, while the rest of him lay propped up on the cot.

While Fritz had run to clean and sanitize as many linens as they could find, Yao had set to work prepping his tools and starting in on the cuts and holes he **could** sterilize and stitch up before surgery. Thankfully, Gil’s bleeding had stopped before they’d left the jailhouse.

Along with his heart.

His Gil had died not once that day, but **_three times_**.

 And three times Yao had brought him back with lightning.

Matthew will never forget the sight of the healer cussing in his foreign language before pouring some sort of metallic smelling potion onto a flat metal disk and pressing it over Gil’s heart.

Of the disk igniting into blue streaks of light.

Or the thunderous sound resonating through-out the jailhouse and contorting Gil’s chest with each blow.

Momentarily restarting his heart before it had once again fell dormant.

Yao repeated the process three times before it had stuck. Giving Gil yet another burn scar over his heart.

The first two days of their residence here had been used up with Gil in either one surgery or another.

The bones in his legs and arms had been shattered.

Matthew had watched in awed and disgusted fascination as Yao had managed to piece together and replace parts of Gil’s limbs with strands and bits of metal. Somehow reconstructing the bones and sewing his flesh and skin shut again.

He’d done the same to Matthew’s left arm after numbing it somehow with a potion he’d stabbed into his arm repeatedly with a specially designed, hollow sewing needle. His left arm now hung in a sling. Bandaged over the surgical incision and the fish-skin the healer had applied to the burn wounds along Matthew’s fingers.

A matching bandage wrapped around his left temple, where Yao had sewn the split in his head shut.

A mere speck in comparison to the white mess immobilizing Gil in his fragmented shell.

Ironically, the only part that didn’t need bandages was his crotch. That part of his body was covered by a thin blanket. Another small tube, identical to the one feeding his neck, ran from Gil’s penis to another clear bag half-filled with his urine.

Fish skin, like the ones Yao had put on Matthew’s fingers, lay underneath the bandages covering Gil’s legs and parts of his torso, arms, and chest. His mouth was kept shut by even more bandages wrapped around his fractured jaw, keeping it in place. A wad of bunched fabric rested upon his tongue; sealed there by closed teeth. It made sure he didn’t choke on his tongue, while simultaneously keeping from constricting his airway.

The only place injured and not covered by bandages was the right side of Gil’s feral smile. Where a split, running from the corner of his mouth to halfway along the flesh of his cheek, had been stitched back together and covered in a disinfecting paste.

So, all in all, his Gil was a pretty sad sight.

Matthew looked up from his sitting vigil at Gil’s side, to where Yao had just finished emptying the bag of urine and measuring it. Putting quill to paper, he recorded it on a page of parchment. One of many he had on one of the side tables in the room.

“I never thanked you for saving him.”

Yao looked up from his work and met Matthew’s gaze. The foreigner replaced his quill in the ink bottle and sitting up, let out a sigh as he looked at Gil’s broken form.

“You not need to. I am court healer and he my responsibility for very long time.”

Matthew shook his head at the man. “You might be the court healer, but Gil isn’t a prince anymore.”

Yao didn’t move his head, but his eyes pierced into Matthew’s with a protective gleam he didn’t expect. “He always my prince.”

Matthew paused for a minute. Both men staring at each other across the room as a silent conversation was spoken between them.

_This man understands……_

Matthew broke the connection, shaking his head and turning his gaze back to Gil. “Still, without you we never would have been able to save him.”

He lifted his eyes to the healer again. “Again. Thank you for saving him. I’m sorry I threatened you. You know……before.”

Matthew indicated towards his slinged arm with his head. “And ah…. thanks. For patching me up too.”

Yao huffed a little at that. “It not your fault. I been healer long enough and visit many battle field to know approaching you have that reaction.”

He paused to look back at Gil solemnly before once again meeting Matthew’s gaze. “And….thank you.”

Matthew’s brow screwed up in utter confusion. “Um…for what?”

Yao gave a snorting chuckle. “You sit thanking me for bringing back prince.  Yet, if you not removed from execution pyre, there no body to bring back too. I am only man. **Experienced** man, but still just man.”

He paused again and for the barest moment, Matthew swore he saw a gleam and sorrow enter his gaze. But before he could confirm it, Yao turned his head away and Matthew lost his visual connection with the sight. “I am not a god capable of raising the dead.”

Matthew opened his mouth, but stopped the question on his tongue before it passed his lips. Something in the back of his mind instinctively knew not to touch that particular subject.

Yao turned back to him after a moment. The ancient gleam in his eyes once again absent from his usual gaze. “Not everyone could do what you did. Not everyone has courage you possess.”

Matthew blushed slightly and ducked his head, his eyes landing on Yao’s tools. Brilliant and shining as they caught the sunlight, spread out across one of the low tables in their full glory.

Lifting his uninjured arm, Matthew pointed to the implements left out on the low tables mid-sterilization in different potions. “And not everyone has the knowledge or the tools to give a man new limbs.”

Matthew dropped his arm back down and clutched the cloth of his trousers in frustration. “I might have taken Gil down off the fire, but I didn’t save him. Gil would have died from his wounds and there is nothing I could have done to stop it.”

Yao sighed and picked up one of his tools. Twirling it between his fingers with practiced ease. “No. You would not. Though, I not take all credit for tools. I be great healer, but master craftsman and Alchemic, I am not. **That** title belongs to my apprentice, Arthur. He makes specifically **for** me.”

A small smile graced the man’s lips and Matthew stared at him in understanding. “So, you really are a Guild Master?”

Yao nodded his head. “I am **Head** Guild Master.”

Matthew sputtered slightly and stared at Yao in disbelief. “B-but, how? Aren’t Guild Masters supposed to be really old or something?”

Yao lifted an eyebrow at Matthew. “Yes, usually. Let me give you advice.”

The foreign man stood off from his seat and padded over to where he sat next to Gil with a grace and air only someone venerable with age could pull off. Leaning in over Gil’s body, he smiled slyly at Matthew’s upturned face. “If someone **looks** young, does not mean they are. **Especially** , if magic user.”

Matthew’s eyes widened, and Yao straightened once more; his gaze landing on his bedridden patient. “So many chances for things to go wrong. Each person had part in saving him.”

He turned back to Matthew once more. “Let’s leave it at group effort.”

Taking one last once over of his patient he turned toward the door. “I go rest and eat now.”

He paused at the door and turned to Matthew. “You should eat and rest too. You not left his side entire time. He stable now. I ask one of others to watch him. They will fetch me if change.”

Matthew looked from Yao to Gil and shook his head. As much as food and sleep called to him, he just couldn’t bring himself to leave him just yet. _I can’t take the chance he won’t be here when I wake up._ “N-no. You go on ahead.”

“It not good for injuries with no sleep and nourishment. Your body needs rest before it can heal.”

Matthew shook his head and threaded his fingers in the thin blanket covering Gil. “I can’t leave him, not while he’s like this.”

There was a pause before Yao responded. “Alright. As **your** healer, I not agree.”

His face softened slightly then. “But as man I understand. I will allow for now.”

He turned to walk through the doorway before halting and turning back to his charges. “But be warned. You push yourself too far,” He leveled a pointed finger on Gil, before shifting it to Matthew.

“I hook you up like Prince.”

Matthew chuckled and smiled back over his shoulder at the Guild Master. “Thanks, Yao.”

Yao just lifted a brow sarcastically before waving him off and closing the door behind him.

 

*******

**_Four days later……_ **

“Mattie. Bro, we’ve been here for seven days and you haven’t left his side. Come on, buddy. You can’t keep doing this. You need to sleep.”

Matthew turned his head on the creaking hinge his neck had become and glared red, dry eyes at his brother. “Leave me alone, Al.”

Alfred stood up from his stool, opposite of Matthew’s own on the other side of Gil’s prone form. “And let you join him?!”

He waved his hand toward Gil’s bandaged face. “It’s not like he’s going anywhere. Just come and eat and take a nap or something.”

Matthew gave a long, suffering sigh.  His unslung hand coming up to rub the grunge from his eyes with bandaged fingers.

“I can’t, Al.”

“No. Not can’t, you **won’t**. You won’t let yourself sleep or eat like you need to, because you’re still caught up on what happened.”

Matthew gritted his teeth in a near hiss. He knew his brother was coming from a place of love, but frankly he was too strung out to deal with it.  When he spoke, his voice dripped with venom. “No, Al. You don’t understand. **I can’t sleep**.”

He turned back to peer at the still sleeping face of his angel. “I’ve tried alright. But every time I do, I see him burning. I see him set ablaze alive, head thrown back to face the stars. I hear him screaming out a desperate cry for salvation and when I wake to answer the call, all I see is him lying there. All but dead again and I wonder if he will ever wake up.”

Al paused at his twins’ tirade and as the last sentence fell from his lips, a somber frown fell on his own. “Mattie-!”

“I can’t sleep, because all I see in my dreams is his death. I can’t eat, because all we have is hunted game. Any time I try to eat the meat, I smell his body being cooked in the flames.”

His eyes stung from being overused. Tears formed behind them, but never spilled. Matthew turned to his brother and sore eyes glared at him. “So no, Al. It’s not that I **won’t**. It’s that I **can’t**.”

Alfred opened his mouth to reply, but couldn’t form the words to speak. Once again, he was stuck with no way of making the situation better. Yes, they had saved his brother’s lover. But in the process, Matthew had earned scars he shouldn’t have.

_Wounds I should’ve protected him from._

At Alfred’s lack of an answer, Matthew turned back toward the prone, Gil. As he did, a howl went up from the pack in the courtyard.

Matthew snapped his head up at the sound. “That will be Fritz back with the Prince.”

He stood up and walked past Alfred to march out the door, toward the courtyard. “You stay here, until Yao comes to watch him. I’ll go make sure they don’t get eaten.”

And with that he strode out of the room, leaving Alfred to look after him in silent regret.

*******

 

Matthew let out a scratchy howl as the mounts broke through the trees. He stood in the open doorway of the great hall, both welcoming and dreading their arrival.

Now that Gil was stabilized and hopefully on the mend, they would have to deal with the fallout executing the Sheriff would cause.

_He was seen. It doesn’t matter if everyone thinks he’s dead. His mere sighting will cause rumors to spread._

Matthew raised a hand to pinch his nose in worry, as the riders dismounted. _What the hell are we going to do? How am I going to keep him safe?_

“Matthew!”

He looked up toward the sound of the voice. Fritz loped up the stairs to the doors; a smile on his face and arm raised in greeting.

Until he got closer to Matthew.

A frown replaced his smile and both hands came up to grasp his face, turning it this way and that in a thorough inspection. “You haven’t been sleeping.”

Matthew brushed his hands off and shook his head. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Fritz didn’t say anything, but the look he gave Matthew let him know he wasn’t buying it. However, he let the matter slide and they both turned toward the rest of the party.

Making quick work of unsaddling and unharnessing their mounts, the three men left the four steads to graze freely in the courtyard. Making their way over with saddle bags strewn over their shoulders, they too took in Matthew’s condition.

Ludwig furrowed his brow, fear creeping into his eyes. “Mein Bruder…. is he-!”

“No. No.” Matthew made a dismissive wave with his free hand. “I’ve just had trouble sleeping.”

He lowered his hand back down to his side. “Gil hasn’t woken up yet, but Yao says he’s stable and recovering well enough. That’s all I care about.”

Ludwig’s shoulders relaxed along with the others. They’d all stopped breathing momentarily while Matthew spoke.

Matthew ran a bandaged hand through his limp hair and tilted his head back to indicate toward the doorway. “Come on inside. We’ve been sleeping around one of the hearths in the great room. Your make-shift cots have already been set up.”

Matthew turned without their reply and entered the great room.

Stepping inside, he once again felt a stab of pain at the rooms beauty. At the horrors this room had witnessed. At the tender memories of his and Gil’s first time.

He raised his face up to the ashen people smiling down at him from jeweled eyes. _They are like guardians. Witnessing all the suffering and joy a single room can hold._

A simple reminder to leave behind now that they’re gone.

Behind him, twin gasps exhaled from both Vash and Lars.

Matthew turned to his companions, stock still in wonderment just past the threshold.

All four men stood staring up at the giant mural surrounding them. But while Lars and Vash only had wonder and fascination upon their faces, the Prince and Fritz held altogether different emotions.

Fritz’s expression only held a strange mixture of regret and fondness as he gazed up at the paintings with haunted eyes.

_He must be remembering his time with Adala here._

Knowing what he did about Fritz’s time here before Gil’s birth, Matthew knew he must be imagining what happened within this space so many years ago.

_At least Al and I removed some of the debris and cleaned out all the animal bones._

He couldn’t imagine how painful it would have been for Fritz to see **all** the lasting evidence of carnage still housed when they’d arrived.

Matthew’s expression darkened the longer he looked at Fritz’s own though. While the fondness there was still present, it was overshadowed by the regret. More so than a man remembering his good times and how they all came to a gruesome end.

In fact, his regret was of someone who was **reliving** the atrocities that took place here. Not someone merely **imagining** them.

Before he could think more on it though, Matthew’s gaze swung to Ludwig and stayed there.

The Prince stared around him at the portraits with an odd and unexpected emotion.

He stared at them with confused recognition.

Walking over to edge of the mural. Ludwig placed his palm to outline the figure of the larger of the two Chiefs. Running his hand over his vandalized face. His fingers dancing over the leaves of his laurel crown with a delicacy Matthew thought him incapable of.

When he spoke, his voice held a note of hollowed wonder. Almost like he didn’t really want to know the answer. Like he already knew the answer, but had to ask anyway. “What is this place?”

For a long moment, no one answered. The room filled with a heavy silence that no one was brave enough to disturb.

When no one answered, Ludwig turned from the mural to face the others. First Matthew, and then Fritz held his attention. When Matthew didn’t immediately answer his question, the Prince turned to the General. “Fritz?”

Fritz let out a sigh. “Welcome to Königsberg. The capital and main settlement of the once Bartian peoples.”

 Ludwig’s eyes widened slightly, though in anger and not surprise.

“I know this place.” He said.

Lars paused in his inspection of the paintings to stare at his Prince. “What?”

Ludwig ran a hand through his hair, dislodging the usually immaculate tresses from their slicked back placement. “After I was taken and Bruder rescued me, he brought me to these woods. It was the only place the Krasnyy rebels wouldn’t dare follow us.”

He looked out over the great hall. As if looking for things no longer there, but still just as visible in his minds eye. Ghosts of the genocide Gil and he must have found upon their initial visit.

Those same eyes held with Fritz’s before turning their icy glare on Matthew. “Why would you bring him here? Why would you do so when you knew what this place was?”

Matthew met his glare and shot back his own gaze through tired and cranky eyes. “Because we had nowhere else to go.”

As he spoke he took angry steps toward the Prince. Heat rolling off his words as slickly as they rolled off his tongue. Lars moved to intercept him out of habit, but Fritz held up a hand to stop him. “Because the only other structure within the Dark Wood was our home. The home **he** tortured and mutilated Gil in. The home I burnt to the ground when I saw what they’d done to him there.”

He paused his accusation momentarily as he stopped right in front of Ludwig and sneered up into frosty blue eyes. “What you **let** happen. Because you were too chicken shit to sneak around dear old Daddy’s back in time.”

Ludwig’s eyes filled with hurt and anger, but he said nothing. Neither in defense or offense. He just didn’t say anything at all and the silence stretched for long moments as their gazes held.

The sharp sound of a clap drew both their attentions to Fritz. “Now, now. We’ll have none of that.”

He turned his gaze to Matthew. “Matthew, I’m not going to lecture you on how unfair your comment was. No matter how true it might seem to you, there are extenuating circumstances you don’t know of.”

Matthew opened his mouth to argue, but Fritz stopped it with the flick of his hand. “No. No arguing. I understand your stance and attitude about direct and effective action over strategy. In fact, I somewhat admire your more straight forward approach to doing things. But for the nobility,” He raised his hand to indicate himself and Ludwig. “we cannot just act. Everything we do has a dozen different consequences. All of which could start a domino effect of tragedy if not handled with care.”

His brow creased in sympathy then. “I know it’s hard for you to accept, but that’s simply the way things are.”

His head swiveled until it leveled on Ludwig. “And **_I_ ** chose to bring Gilbert here. There is an old Apothecary surgery and healer’s chambers. I thought we could salvage the space for Yao to heal, Gil. That’s why we brought him here.”

Another bought of silence from Ludwig. He nodded slightly at Fritz’s explanation before turning back to scrutinize the rest of the portraits contained in the mural.

Matthew didn’t bother to look at him. He was just too tired and cranky to care how rude he’d been.

It was at that moment, Alfred decided to join the party.

They twin burst into the great hall room like he always did.

With an excessive amount of noise.

**“HEY GUYS!!!** Look what I found! I was looking through the rooms for broken furniture and stuff we could burn, and I found this!”

All five men turned to look at what Alfred held in his arms and Matthew immediately turned a distinctly dark shade of pink.

It was the Bartian wooden throne.

Or at least what was left of it.

Vash stepped toward Alfred as he appeared around the corner of the hallway carved deeper into the rock face at the back of the keep. The hallway lead to several different chambers and rooms branched off from the main great hall. Mostly living quarters for the Chief and his or her families and other important tribesmen like the healer.

“What **is** that?”

Alfred walked deeper into the great hall and lifted the wooden pieces for all to see. Displaying the ornate carvings along the woods grain in the best light. “Dunno. But whatever it was, it was sure important. Look at all the markings on this thing! Someone took a lot time to put this much detail into it.”

Fritz and Lars stepped forward to join Vash and Alfred in the center of the room. Ludwig remained where he was, but craned his neck to inspect the object Alfred held in his arms from his impressive height. Matthew stood right where he was and tried his best to simply melt into the mural of other faces.

Taking the damaged wood in his hands, Fritz caught his breath as he distinguished the significance of the boards carvings. “It’s the throne.”

All men, save for Fritz and Matthew, widened their eyes in shock. “It must have been destroyed in the raid.”

The general turned the wooden board in his hands and pointed to five distinct marks in the grain. “These marks were left by the claws of a Bartian warrior. It was custom to file their finger nails and canines into points for battle. As their blood magic made them much harder than a normal man’s and allowed them to grow back no matter how many times they were ripped out.”

He held the board in front of himself, against his pelvis. “This particular plank was part of the throne’s seat. From where the marks are, the Bartian must have picked up the chair with both hands in order to propel it at an enemy.” His eyebrows furrowed in a frown. “Though, I’m not sure how they did it. Even for a Bartian, the throne was rather large. I’m not sure a single person could have-!”

“Mattie! You okay, Bro? Your face is all red!”

Everyone turned to look at Matthew’s face. Which was indeed very, **very** red. “I-it’s nothing, Al. I’m fine.”

Alfred dropped the rest of the throne unceremoniously and it clattered to the ground. He marched over to his brother. “You’re not fine! Do you have a fever? Should I get Yao?!?!”

Al raised his arms to encircle his twin in a hug, his forehead resting against Matthew’s. As if the mere act of holding his brother could cure him of any illness.

Matthew wiggled in his brother’s embrace. His face flushed even more with disgruntled embarrassment. “What? No, Al! I’m fine. Please just drop it!”

While the others watched the scene between the two brothers, the wheels in Fritz’s head started turning. He looked between Matthew and the board. Particularly, at the placement of where the thrones seat would have to be against the person who made the marks.

At how it rested against his groin.

The dots connected suddenly, and a bright bark of laughter filled the room along with the slow Cheshire cat grin that spread across Fritz’s face.

The room’s other occupants turned at the sound and paused in surprise at Fritz’s reaction. Moving his sly eyes to rest on Matthew, his smile widened. “I’ve just figured out what happened to the throne.”

His grin widened a bit and turned salacious as Matthew’s eyes widened in dread. “It seems I was correct in ascertaining **something** was destroyed.”

Four very different and distinct reactions accompanied Fritz’s revelation. Lars, Ludwig, and Vash all caught on to Fritz’s meaning. Ludwig turned away and back towards the mural; his face an even darker shade than Matthews. Lars attempted to cover his bark of laughter with a cough unsuccessfully. Vash’s only reaction was to scowl a harrowed look of disgust and stomp off towards the hearth with his saddlebags.

Alfred for his part, didn’t get it and stood there in dumbfounded puzzlement. His head whipping back and fourth between the others, as if the answer somehow lay within their expressions. “I don’t get it.”

Fritz frowned at his apprentice with a weary sigh. “I really shouldn’t be surprised by your overabundant obliviousness. But every time I think I know how deep that particular well goes, I always find myself proven wrong once again.”

At that moment, Matthew threw off his brothers’ arms and stomped toward the back of the keep; toward the hallway leading to the old healers’ chambers. “I’m going back to watch over Gil.”

No one made a move to stop him as he disappeared around the corridors’ corner.

Lars walked over to Ludwig and relieved him of his saddlebags before setting to work setting up their sleeping spots.

Ludwig stayed where he was, peering down at the portrait of a beautiful young woman; smiling and hugging a wolf pup to her bosom.

Fritz paused just behind Ludwig and place a single hand on his shoulder.

Ludwig started at the touch, so absorbed in drinking in the painting he hadn’t noticed Fritz approach.

He looked up and relaxed into the touch once he saw the hand’s owner. “Is this her?”

Fritz smiled sadly and nodded his head. “Yes, my boy. That is Adala.”

Ludwig turned back to the portrait. His face unreadable as the mask he donned when emotions were high slid into place. His hand fisted where it lay next to her head. As if he couldn’t bear to touch her and chance ruining the last piece of her left behind.  

Fritz sighed and moved his hand to ruffle Ludwig’s hair in comfort. “He looks just like her, doesn’t he?”

The Prince let out a shaky breath. His shoulders hunched slightly even through the comfort his adopted father tried to give him. But nothing Fritz ever did would rid him of this guilt. Of the worry that he too would become a king that would sacrifice such things on his whim.

That in the end, he would fail and sacrifice everything to play the game.

Matthew’s expression and his words ran through his mind as he answered Fritz. “Yes. Yes, he does.”

 

*******

**_One day later……_ **

 

Matthew drew up sharply at the sound of the rooms’ door crashing back against the wall.

Bleary and crusty eyes blinked away his blurred vision to make out a tall figure standing in the doorway. The smell of stew drifted across to him and he rolled his dull eyes before resting his head again on his arms atop Gil’s makeshift mattress. “Go away, Al. I’m not in the mood to argue with you right now.”

“Then don’t.”

The young man once again whipped up his head at the unexpected voice. Lars ignored his expression of astonishment and strode into the room. Taking Yao’s usual seat, he placed it opposite Matthew at the side of Gil’s sickbed and passed Matthew the steaming bowl before lowering himself into it.

_Yep. The scarf is still weird._

Matthew turned his surprised gaze from the Oberleutnant, back to the stone vessel in his hands. “I-I can’t eat this.”

Lars finished settling himself atop his seat and raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes, you can.”

“N-no. You don’t understand. I-I can’t eat meat, right now. Not after what happened.”

“I know.”

Matthew stared at him.

“Just like I know the reason you can’t sleep either. Good thing there are only roots and field greens in that stew.”

Matthew looked down and sure enough, no meat was present amongst the veggies and broth. Breathing a happy sigh, he tentatively took up the spoon already in the bowl and took a delicate bite of nourishment. No images of burning flesh swam before his vision and his stomach cramped only slightly at suddenly being used again.

As he spoke, Matthew continued to take small, paced bites of the food. His eyes straying to Lars. The big man still intimidated the crap out of him, but his curiosity finally won out. “You said you know the reason I can’t sleep. How do you know?”

Lars gave a deprecating sniff and wire smile at that. He spoke to Matthew, but his eyes never left Gil’s prone form.

“Because I was the same way after my first battle. I couldn’t eat meat for weeks afterwards. Every time I even **looked** at red flesh, the image of the other soldiers laying **butchered** across the field would cloud my vision. The same with sleeping. Any time I tried to rest, I’d either be too jumpy to settle down. Or once I finally did, the nightmares would chase me into wakefulness without fail.”

Matthew slowly shook his head around a mouthful. “But I’m not a solider. I’ve never been in a battle.”

Lars didn’t move his head, but his eyes slid sideways to look Matthew in the eye. “No. You are not a solider, but you are very much so a warrior. You might never have stepped foot on a battlefield but make no mistake. What you just experienced was defiantly combat.”

Matthew didn’t know what to say to that.

They both sat in silence for a time, while Matthew finished his food. When he was done, he set the bowl down and continued his vigil of Gil with Lars.

As the silence continued, Matthew’s gaze slid from Gil’s unchanging visage to Lars. The man stared down at Gil with a very mixed expression. His face held a plethora of different emotions. Some of which surprised Matthew.

In his face Matthew saw frustration clashing with regret. Affection dancing with bemusement. And relief laced through with …. **wonder**.

“I can’t believe he’s alive.”

Matthew grimaced slightly at the statement. He really didn’t need a reminder of Gil’s literal triple brush with death. “I know, it’s a miracle he’s survived.”

Lars shook his head. “No. That’s not what I meant. Well, I suppose that too. But, what I was referring to was that I never thought I would see him again, even like this, after the branding.”

Matthew sat up straighter from his place on the floor and turned to Lars in surprise. “Wait. You knew Gil before he was a Fodder Slave?”

Lars smiled then. Not a sad smile, but a smile laced with happy memories. “Yes. I owe him my life.”

They stared at each other then. Lars accessing Matthew, waiting for him to ask. “Will you tell me?”

Matthew knew he’d been waiting for that question, but when he asked, Lars still let out a heavy breath. He had a feeling the soldier didn’t talk about himself often.

Lars leaned back a little in the chair so that only two legs were on the dirt floor. Folding his arms, he returned his gaze to Gil.

“During his reign, King Wilhelm conquered many different territories. When he did, the citizens of these territories were either integrated into the general population or forced into the military and indentured servitude.” He slid his eyes to Matthew briefly. “Since slavery was technically illegal.”

“As you can guess, the citizens of a higher social class or skill sets were given jobs of higher rank. Noblemen became valued merchants and representatives of the Kingdom, while Noblewomen were married to Gegend nobility to strengthen ties or became governesses to their children.” He paused again. “Among other stations and responsibilities, but you get the general idea.”

“As for the common folk, they were forced into camps outside of major cities to serve Gegend citizens as indentured servants. Anyone able enough was drafted into the military. When King Wilhelm passed, our current King Aldrich continued the practice.”

His fists clenched over his crossed arms. “The living conditions of the slums were abominable. Filth and plague were abundant, and death a visitor to every shack……including mine.”

He didn’t look at Matthew at that omission, but Matthew felt the heartbreak in that line. “After our parents died, my sister Emma and I searched for whatever work we could find until eventually we ended up becoming army followers. That’s where we met Vash, his sister Lili, and our comrade Sadik. We were all orphans of conquered territories and different city slums. Following the same army that conquered our peoples.”

He laughed a mirthless laugh at that. “It was the only way we could eat at the time.”

“Vash, Sadik, and I were out and about doing odd jobs for the soldiers one day, when screams rang out from the direction of our camp. All three of us ran toward the screams to see two soldiers attempting to rape Emma and Lili.”

_Oh God…._

Matthew had a brief flashback at his words. He remembered how utterly terrified and helpless he’d felt at the Sheriff’s attack. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like for two little girls to experience the same.

He slid his eyes over to Matthew. “As you can imagine, all hell broke loose when we saw them. Three scrawny children from the slums against two trained, full grown soldiers and we still won.”

Lars rolled his shoulders and raised the edge of his scarf to rub the scar on his forehead in a comforting habit.

Shifting slightly in his seat, his eyes still stayed with Matthew. “We were brought before the soldier’s regiment and set to be executed for protecting our sisters. But before they could hang us for our crimes, a boy, younger than us, came galloping in on a rabid roan warhorse. He took one look at the situation and stripped the commanding officers of their ranks on the spot.”

A grin spread his lips at remembering the scene. “Later that night, he came to find us at our camp with Feldmarschal Fritz in tow. It was then he asked us to join him. We became members of Fritz’s estate orphanage and grew up there. We learned many skills in our time there, including how to read and write. Vash quickly earned a scholarship and entered university in the Capital city, before becoming a Royal Accountant. Lili and Emma received training and now live and work in the palace.”

“Sadik and I enlisted when we were old enough and Fritz made sure we were placed with good men during our Knight apprenticeships.”

A smirk added a cheeky tilt to his grin. “Now, I serve as the Captain of the Prince’s Guard and the Princes’ personal bodyguard. Sadik is also a member of the Prince’s Guard and my second.”

And with that his words stopped. His explanation apparently done, he turned back to watch Gil.

Matthew waited for him to go on, but he never did. He was right in assuming this man didn’t talk about himself very often. His words few and precise. Never saying more than was necessary. Once he’d said what was needed, he simply ceased speaking.

It felt kinda wrong.

What’s more, it was……. unnerving.

The awkward silence sat heavy between them at his abrupt halt of conversation.

_As if I need another reason to be intimidated by him._

Shaking his head, Matthew tried to bridge that loss of connection. “I didn’t realize Fritz ran an orphanage.”

Lars looked sideways at him briefly before severing that bridge as well. “Most don’t. He funds it out of his own pocket, so it’s not actually documented on official forms. But, almost all high-ranking soldiers know to bring any orphans they find in the field to his estate.”

Silence.

_Hah. This shouldn’t be this hard._

Eyeing the stony man, Matthew followed his gaze to the one thing it seemed to keep returning to.

To Gil.

The young man crinkled his nose as more tears threatened to build up. His lips pulled back in a futile snarl at his lovers’ predicament. “I-!”

He stuttered to a halt as Lars turned to fully face him for the first time. Matthew’s face flushed a little as his free hand clutched Gil’s light blanket. “I never thought I’d ever see him again either.”

He closed his eyes as they filled, and the tears threatened to fall.

_I’m done. I am so done with this. I just want him to be healthy and safe. I want us to run off and hide somewhere where no one will find us._

His violet depths opened, and the tears ran down.

_Where no one can touch him._

Lars looked away at Matthew’s show of emotions. A leather-gloved hand reaching up to scratch the back of his head in slight distress.

_Hah. Serves you right._

Matthew looked away from him and let the tears fall.

“Matthew….”

The deep tone of his voice had Matthew turning back to the room’s third occupant. The harsh timbre was not a part of his usual sound.

Lars shifted in his seat once more and brought it down from its teetering perch. Folding his hands placatingly in front of him, he looked Matthew in the eye.

“I won’t tell you that the nightmares will ever go away. I won’t lie to you and say that fear won’t always be there.” His eyes darted to Gil again before returning to his recipient. “You don’t see things like that and just forget them. Those images are now branded into your mind as permanently as the mark on his back.”

Matthew clenched his teeth and looked away. “I know. You don’t need to lecture me on something I am already aware of.”

“No. Listen.”

Begrudgingly, he turned his head back. “What.”

Lars furrowed his brow in agitated annoyance. “I won’t lie to you and say what you saw, what you experienced, will all just disappear.”

He paused and let out a heavy breath. “But it does get easier.”

His eyes strayed back to Gil then. “Eventually we all learn to deal with our demons. We all learn to accept the things we regret and the things we have done. The things we would change and the actions we didn’t take.”

He glanced back and met Matthew’s gaze once more. “If you want to protect him when he does finally wake up, you have to lay your monsters to rest.”

Matthew gave out a nasally laugh at that. “Well, Lars. Is this supposed to be a pep talk, or are you just scolding me?”

Lars narrowed his gaze. “I’m serious.”

“I know.” He rolled his shoulders and smiled sadly. “I’m not sure what else I can lay to rest, Lars. I did everything I possibly could to save him, but it still fell short. It’s not regret I feel,” His eyes turned feral then. “but anger.”

Matthew leaned forward and his voice rose. “I did anything and everything to save him. **_I_** escaped Fritz’s confinement. **_I_** infiltrated the palace and found the Prince. **_I_ ** lead the wolves into the village. And **_I_ ** brought him down and out of the flames.”

His sneer turned nasty and his eyes burned with the memory of those flames. “And yet, the only one with any real power in this situation, his own brother, …… **hesitated**.”

Matthew laughed. The sound filled with disgust. “He won’t even visit him.”

Lars didn’t answer for long minutes. Though his eyes and face showed his argument, he held his tongue. His eyes tracked around the room before landing on Gil, and eventually, training on Matthew.

He leaned forward himself. His head tilted at a wondering angle. His words filled with caution. “I’m……I’m not sure that he **can**.”

Matthew threw back his shoulders in rage. His anger boiling over at the words Lars uttered so tentatively. “What do you mean-!”

***KNOCK*KNOCK***

They both turned to the open doorway where Fritz’s fist still lay against the door-jam. The general’s face held an understanding gleam, but he said nothing about their conversation. “Sorry to interrupt, but you are both needed in the great room. Prince Ludwig has called a meeting.”

 Matthew turned his anger toward Fritz. “What does **he** want?”

Fritz raised an eyebrow at Matthew’s tone. “We are going to do a full debriefing of everything that has happened. Each person is going to add the actions they took and how the events leading up until now unfolded from each of their perspectives.”

Matthew rolled his eyes. “What good will that do? We all know what happened!”

His fingers curled tighter around the sheet in his hand; his eyes lowered. “Talking about it won’t change anything.”

Lars didn’t say anything. He shared a look with Fritz from across the room.

Fritz let out a deep sigh. “No, Matthew. Talking about it won’t change anything.”

He stepped forward and placed a hand over the young man’s shoulder. Matthew looked up at Fritz; a grudge still mottling his gaze.

Fritz gave him a small but knowing smile. “But it just might allow us to prevent anything like this from happening again. To protect him.”

Fritz held his gaze as Matthew chewed on what the general had just said. His mind battled between his inner logic and his roiling emotions.

While his heart ached at the idea of leaving his love for the time it would take to attend the meeting.

He turned back to Gil and peered down at his man. At the childlike peace his expression showed in his continual slumber.

And he was reminded once again, how he’d do anything for him.

_I will keep you safe._

Matthew’s shoulders shuddered as he stood and turned to the door. “Fine.”

He didn’t meet either man’s eyes as he strode out of the room and toward the great hall.

And neither man answered him as they watched him go.

 

*******

** German Translations: **

  1. Oberleutnant = German Military Rank (Equivalent to a Senior Lieutenant in other Armies)



** Russian Translations: **

  1. Krasnyy = Red



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys! Challenged here! Again, I’m so sorry for taking so long to update. This and the next update were originally supposed to all be one big chapter, but as my curse/blessing goes, I ended up writing it way longer than originally intended. And we wanted to get the next update out as soon as possible for you guys, so here! Again, thanks for being so patient with me and let us know what you guys think in the comments section! (^^)


	25. Chapter #23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys! Challenged here! So, yah. I did it again. No, I’m not talking about taking forever to update. (Though I did do that again too. *sigh*) This chapter was a bit of a logistical nightmare for me, with juggling all the different characters. And I once again ended up splitting this chapter and making it two. I finished the second part at just over 10K words and decided it was big enough. *Eye Rolls* I swear one of these days I will learn. 
> 
> Anyway! Here! Have and update! Super special shout-out to Kristy_Senji, Syaoiat, and Sarah! Your comments and questions really warmed my heart and motivated me to get this chapter out as soon as possible. Thanks, you beautiful wonders! This one’s for you!
> 
> More authors’ notes and translations at the bottom. Don’t forget to scream at us in the comments section! It’s my crack! (^^)

Four sets of eyes turned to Matthew as he stomped into the great room.

He paused at the archway leading into the corridor at the back of the room, opposite the giant double door leading out to the courtyard.

Ludwig, Yao, Vash, and Alfred stood in varying degrees of unease next to the hearth; careful to avoid stepping on the sleeping cots. All straightened at Matthew’s appearance. Matthew’s eyes meeting each man before landing on Ludwig and holding.

They stared at each other for long moments without saying anything. The air around them growing awkward with the hostility leaking from Matthew.

Footsteps sounded behind Matthew as Fritz and Lars stepped in behind him.

Putting a hand on Matthew’s right shoulder, Fritz addressed the room at large. “Alright. Now that everyone is present, and Gil is stable enough to be left unsupervised for a time, let’s get down to business shall we?”

Yao, Alfred, Vash, and Lars exhaled, thinking the awkwardness would stop with Fritz’s words.

It didn’t.

Matthew ignored Fritz and the rest; continuing to glare at Ludwig with a drained countenance.

The Prince broke eye contact first. Turning his head to the side and down, before clearing his throat and agreeing with Fritz. “Yes. We shouldn’t leave him alone for any longer than necessary.”

He took a step towards the long table in the middle of the room, his head still down, and the others followed to join him there. But as he stepped up to the seat at the head of the table, the seat _he_ as Prince of the Kingdom and therefore with the highest station should sit in, he drew up his head to see Matthew already sitting there. His head turned to the side and looking up at Ludwig with the same glare of sapped animosity.

Ludwig stopped short in surprise and somewhat hurt confusion at the continued display of hostility.

The others stood stock-still, save for Fritz, who came up beside Matthew and once again put a hand on his shoulder. “Matthew, my boy. That is Ludwig’s seat.”

Matthew looked straight forward down the table at the others gathered around it. Every person stood behind their chairs, yet to sit down. Not sure what to do. Hoping Matthew would just **move**.

Alfred, being Alfred decided to add his two cents to the matter. “Yah, Mattie. That’s the Prince’s spot! Come sit beside me!” He pulled out the seat next to him. “I saved it just for you!”

Vash and Lars relaxed once more, thinking Matthew had just made a simple mistake and not a show of aggression. Yao stood waiting, knowing that wasn’t the case.

Matthew’s eyes darted briefly to his brother before centering down the length of the table once more. Shrugging the hand off his injured shoulder, he spat out his reply. “Actually, no. This is not his seat.”

All heat fled the room on the heals of Matthew’s icy words.

“Ludwig might be the Prince of the Gegend Kingdom, but this is not his domain. The Dark Wood is Gil’s home. **Our** home. And his by birthright. He is the Alpha of this place and as his partner so am I. So, no. It’s not **his**. It is mine until Gil can occupy it himself.”

He turned to glare sharply at the Prince. “Or will his brother forsake him in this too?”

No one spoke for a long moment. No one dared to. Ludwig and Matthew just stared at each other. Matthew from his proud throne and Ludwig on the outside. Back arched and face pinched in both affront and guilt.

Affront at the idea of betraying his brother.

And guilt for thinking he already had.

The silence only shattered at Alfred’s soft exhale. His distress evident in the one word that passed his lips.

“….. _Bro_ …..”

Matthew’s chair was suddenly wrenched around to the man at his right. The legs scraping and groaning at the violent movement. Fritz laid both hands on each arm of Matthew’s perch. Effectively trapping him in place. Leaving him no room to escape from the furious man seething down on him.

“Matthew. I am quite tired of your venomous temper-tantrums. In fact, I am done with them. This ends **now**. Your anger and hostility towards Ludwig has gone on long enough.  He is not responsible for what happened to Gilbert. Many different variables and circumstances led to the unfortunate events that unfolded. He has not earned such disrespectful behavior from you and frankly, I think Gilbert would say the same.”

A long peal of weeping laughter brought everything to a halt in that moment. Everyone was taken off guard by the sound and Fritz, for all he’d seen and heard, drew back in surprise at the eerie sound. Matthew’s neck extended until the crown of his matted, wavy blonde hair caught in the thatch of the chair’s spindled back.

“That’s the thing, Fritz. Gil can’t say anything. He died that night and he still might die again. He might never speak again.”

Weary tears stinging his sunken eyes as they glared up at Fritz with distain.

“I might never hear his voice ever again.”

The General’s expression drew down then, morphing from anger and irritation to sympathy and understanding. He raised a comforting hand from the arm of the chair to thread his fingers through the mess of greasy strands pressed into the thatch.

“I know, son. I know. But venting and raving won’t change anything. Blaming Ludwig won’t erase what happened.”

“Oh, I don’t blame Ludwig for what happened Fritz.”

Matthew suddenly stood up from his chair; effectively causing it to fall back and land on the stone floor. The harsh thud as it hit the surface like a death knell. Standing over the shorter man, Matthew lit into him. Each accusation like a physical blow. Each wound imprinting itself on Fritz’s conscience.

“Ludwig might not have jumped into action when he learned Gil was in danger, but at least he didn’t run away! **At least he didn’t abandon him to die, Fritz!** ”

Hurt shot through the Feldmarschall’s eyes and he took an involuntary step back at the harsh words.

**“You were there! You knew what was happening and what Gil intended! You knew he was going to let himself be killed. You knew, Fritz! You fucking knew! And you walked away and let him do it!”**

Another string of withered laughter rang out. This one more hysterical than the last.

**“How outrageous! He literally gave his life and death to protect his family, but it’s _his family_ who endangers him the most. It’s not the Sheriff who killed him, no. None of this would have happened if the King didn’t threaten Gil’s life. It’s the crown! And you let your King get away with it! You! The people he gave everything for have failed him and _just let him die_!”**

**“ENOUGH!!!!!!”**

All eyes riveted on Matthew’s tirade shifted to the foreign healer. Yao sat in his seat on the left side of the table. His back arched in annoyance and his chin resting on his folded hands atop the long table. His eyes tracking each person with angry precision.

“What done is done. No amount of arguing will change it. Now, we must focus on hiding this mess.”

Ludwig finally let out the breath he’d been holding throughout Matthew’s tirade. Straightening, he once again donned the mask of the leader he was supposed to be. “Yao is right.”

His eyes turned to meet Matthew’s violet storms. “And we shouldn’t leave mein Bruder for longer than we need to.”

Gritting his teeth and hissing out an indignant breath over cracked lips, Matthew rightened his chair with jerky movements and sat down in a great huff. Crossing his one good arm, he stared tightly through damp eyes down the length of the table.

The others soon fallowed suit. Vash and Alfred taking the seats they’d intended from the beginning. Fritz made to sit at Matthew’s right; a haunted look overtaking his gaze. But before his rear lowered into the chair, Lars took his arm and shook his head; indicating to the empty seat beside Alfred. The General nodded once and moved to sit next to his apprentice while Lars took his place beside Matthew.

A single consoling hand lifted to squeeze the younger twin’s un-injured shoulder. Attempting to give him a sense of companionship in his time of need. Matthew lifted his tear drenched eyes to Lars and gave him a small thankful smile. Lars gave his shoulder another small squeeze before shifting his arm to mirror his other as it lay flat on the table before him.

Ludwig took up the seat to Matthew’s left.

The second highest placing at the table.

Taking a pinched breath, Vash addressed the room for the first time. “Alright. We should first get our facts straight before we make any decisions on our course of action from here on out. So, we should start from the beginning. We all know what happened to Prince Gilbert ten years ago. We know he was sentenced to be a Fodder Slave and branded. We also know that at some point during his sentence he escaped and ended up in the Dark Woods. Does anyone know exactly **when** he escaped?”

Fritz cleared his throat before speaking. “His number came across my desk roughly five years ago, reporting he had died in the field. It will still be filed as such.”

Vash nodded. “And does it give any details to his death? Anything that could’ve revealed he’d actually escaped?”

“No. Only that he had fulfilled his purpose. I don’t know how he escaped or what all was involved. He’s never told me.”

The older man glanced over to Matthew. Matthew saw the movement and narrowed his eyes.

“Yes, old man. He told me.”

The room turned their eyes on him.

“They were fighting next to the Dark Wood on the Krasnyy side. Another Fodder Slave was hit with an arrow and bled out under a tree. He held the dying child through the night and when he woke up the line had advanced. Gilbird was perched above him and Gil assumed they thought he was dead too. He escaped into the Dark Wood and has remained here ever since.”

The room lay quiet for a moment. Taking in what he’d said.

After a pregnant pause, Ludwig spoke. “Good, then there should be no evidence at the time of escape to hint that he is still alive.”

He turned to Matthew then. “How long have you been staying with him?”

Matthew refused to meet his eyes. “Since early Fall.”

Alfred sat up at that. “Wait. You’ve been with him that long? That’s only a little while after I left to train with Fritz!”

“And that doesn’t explain why you ventured into the Dark Wood in the first place.” Fritz interjected.

“Or did he kidnap you, Mattie?” Alfred asked with narrowed eyes.

Matthew let out a deep sigh. “No, Al. He didn’t kidnap me. I found him.”

Running a hand through his messy hair, he laid it out in detail for them.

“The Sheriff has always been a monster to the villagers. I know it wasn’t entirely intentional, Al, but while you were still living there, you kept him in check a little. He knew he couldn’t get away with too much or you and your hero complex would report him. And he couldn’t get rid of their golden boy or the villagers would go after _him_ instead. You also helped keep him away from me.”

He paused then and looked at Alfred. “I don’t know why, but for whatever reason he became obsessed with me. He could never do anything because you were there, but I could always feel his eyes tracking me. **Devouring** me. After you left it only got worse.”

Alfred shook his head at his younger brother. “Then why did you let me go? Why didn’t you say anything?!?”

Matthew laughed dryly. “And let you miss your chance of obtaining your dream? Not likely. Fritz was your one and only shot for an illiterate orphan from a backwoods village like ours and we knew it. Even if I begged you to stay, the other villagers never would have let you refuse. Not that I would have asked you to, regardless.”

Alfred banged his fisted hands against the table. “Dammit, Mattie! We would’ve figured something out!”

Matthew rubbed his eyes with his uninjured hand; a sassy eyebrow raised. “And let you throw away your dream. Yah, no.”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter anyway.”

Lowering his hand, he continued on.

“After you left there was no longer a buffer between the Sheriff and the villagers. The punishments became much worse, vile even, and Machado took full advantage of us all. No one had the station or the will to oppose him. I managed to avoid him for the most part, but sometimes he would come over and interrogate me **on official business**. He also liked to rifle through my things. Through my clothes. I didn’t let myself get in a situation where he could do worse, but eventually I made a stupid mistake.”

A small breath of disgust escaped him then.

“I went to the river behind our cottage to bath one night and he attacked me. I don’t know why I thought I’d be safe from him there. Maybe because it was so dark and late? Either way he ripped off parts of my clothes and assaulted me. After struggling I was able to clasp a rock in my hand and smashed it over his head and ran for it.”

He shrugged. “To the only place I could. To the Dark Woods.”

A small smile graced his lips. “I ran through the night, absolutely convinced I was going to die. But I couldn’t stop. I just kept running.  Eventually I caught sight of a light and made for it with what seemed like the last of my strength.”

He huffed out a little laugh. “When I arrived in the clearing, I saw Gil and immediately recognized him. Not as the Prince, but as the Beast of the Dark Wood. I was so scared I ran back the way I’d come. Only to be chased by a pack of wolves and cornered when I fell and broke my ankle. The wolves closed in on me and I knew I was about to die. But Gil didn’t let me. He raced after us and challenged the packs’ Alpha. They fought, and Gil won completely barehanded. Taking over as Alpha and saving me. He took me back to his cabin to heal and we kinda just…. fell in love. I’ve been with him ever since.”

The room was mostly quiet after that. Each taking in Matthew’s story. The only sound made was from Alfred.

Loudly gagging in the corner.

“Okay.” Lars piped in. “Then how did you and Alfred end up in the Dark Woods, Fritz?”

Fritz rolled his eyes. “My pupil simply **had** to see his brother, so we came back to the village only to find young Matthew had vanished and a bounty was now on his head. As you can imagine, Alfred made quite the fuss at that.”

Alfred let out a grumble at the mention of the price still technically placed on Matthew’s head. “Damn straight! That asshole was framing Mattie, so he could trap him!”

He turned to the others, his arms flailing wildly to punctuate his explanation.

“I was running around interrogating people to try and find my Bro, when that pervert got me!” He turned to his brother. “Mattie your man’s a freak! I was taking a piss and the guy came up and grabbed me from behind! Manhandled and pressed me up against the tree and everything!”

The others simply groaned.

Lars shook his head. “Why am I not surprise you were kidnapped using the oldest trick in the book.”

“What happened next, Alfred.” Ludwig said, attempting to keep the ball rolling.

“We talked, and he told me he had Mattie. He wanted to take me to him right away, but I said I needed to let my Master know. He let me run to our rooms and I wrote Fritz a note. I handed it off to the Miller’s son Henry and the pervert blindfolded me and led me through an underground tunnel to where Mattie was.”

Fritz shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I guess we know how the Sheriff knew to go hunting in the Dark Woods.”

Taking a crumpled piece of paper from a hidden pocket inside his coat, Fritz unfolded it to reveal Alfred’s deplorable handwriting. “One of the one-eared boys handed this off to me. Before arriving, he’d pissed himself from fear. Bruises from someone choking him had already started to form and the back of his head was swollen and bleeding. He simply handed this over and took off before I could question him.”

He looked back briefly at his pupil before continuing. “As Alfred is incapable of harming an innocent in such a fashion, we can only assume the boy was intercepted by the Sheriff before handing the letter off to me.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.” Alfred waved his arms crisscross over the table in front of him. “What do you mean, **one of the one-eared boys**? That bastard did that to somebody else?”

“Eric.”

They all turned to Matthew.

“Henry and Eric rang the church bell as a prank. Usually it’s only wrung in times of crisis, like a fire in the fields. But, Henry and Eric were just fooling around. At the time, Machado was in our cottage, ah …… **inspecting my living conditions**. He didn’t like being interrupted.”

A moment of angry and satisfied silence fell over the group.

Anger at the thought of someone abusing his power in such a way.

But satisfaction too, that he had been put down.

“Okay. What happened next?” Yao asked.

“I gathered up our gear and horses and headed in after my stupid pupil.” Fritz remarked drolly. “I got about half-way to their cabin before Gilbert found me. After our reunion, he brought me to their home and introduced me to Matthew.”

A small bittersweet curve too over his lips then. Remembering how proud his adopted son had been to introduce Matthew to him. How happy he’d been to have someone to stand beside him. His eyes strayed to the young man in question and he sniffed in exasperated laughter. _Well, he certainly did do that and then some, didn’t he?_

“Later that night, the emergency fire was lit in the village square.” Matthew took over. “It’s only ever lit when all the villagers must gather immediately. Even the families living far from the village center out near the fields.”

“Wolf-Guy took off to see what was up while we stayed back at the cabin.” Alfred interjected.

“He wouldn’t tell us what was going on when he returned. He said it wasn’t so important it couldn’t wait. That we would talk in the morning.” Fritz admitted. “I knew he was lying, but I trusted his judgment and let it be till morning. When morning came he strode out of the cabin and requested we pack up to depart immediately. Twenty minutes later he reappeared with an unconscious Matthew rolled up in furs.”

Fritz leaned heavily on his elbows atop the long-table; his hands clasped and holding up his forehead on a pinched brow. “He handed him up to me on my horse and told me what had happened. The Sheriff had found him and no doubt the King would figure out he still lived if he hadn’t already put two and two together when Machado sent in his request to launch a hunt.”

He paused. “We assumed wrong. So very wrong.”

His head lifted from his hands, but his eyes closed. Hiding just how much emotion he was trying to hold back. “At the time, we both **knew** the game was up. He’d been found, and it was only a matter of time before he was taken out. Either by the King or the Sheriff, it didn’t matter. The bottom line was, he understood he was going to die. So, Gilbert made the choice to take all his secrets with him.”

Fritz opened his eyes and looked over to Matthew. Murky blue colliding with boiling violet. “He chose to save those most precious to him with his death.”

Turning back to address the rest of the group, he met each of their eyes in turn. “To save us all.”

The group didn’t utter a word. They couldn’t breathe, let alone speak. The implications of what Fritz said drove home a stake in each of their hearts. Their souls crying silent tears of blood.

Fritz continued into the silence. “He handed Matthew up to me and asked for one thing. He **begged** me to protect what was left of his heart. To not waste all he’d sacrificed.”

His eyes closed once more. “I couldn’t argue with him. I just couldn’t fight against his decision, so I left. I fled the Dark Wood and brought both Matthew and Alfred back to my estate. Under my protection where I could keep them safe.”

His eyes opened then, and he leaned back as he leveled an annoyed glower on Matthew. “As you can guess, **his heart** didn’t take too kindly to the situation when he finally woke up.”

Matthew snickered darkly behind his bangs. “That reminds me, old man. How **is** Hans doing?”

Fritz ground his back molars in irritation. “Still salty about your confinement I see.”

Matthew slid Fritz a sweet, yet baleful smile. “Always.”

“I’m sorry.” Ludwig interrupted. “What **are** you talking about?”

It was Alfred who answered. “Fritz locked Mattie in a shed when he told Fritz to bring him to the palace. So, Mattie broke out and stole Fritz’s warhorse Hans instead. I saw him take off and followed after him.”

An incredulous silence took over the group at Alfred’s explanation.

“You.” Vash questioned facing Matthew. “Broke out of confinement at the General’s estate, stole his **warhorse** , and infiltrated the royal palace to enlist the Prince for his help?”

Matthew shrugged nonchalantly. “It was surprisingly easy.”

Lars turned more fully to Matthew, his brow etched in confusion. “But, how?!?! It usually takes **years** of training to even approach a warhorse without getting trampled, let alone ride one!”

Matthew just rolled his eyes. “Please. Kuma was way harder to break in and train than that horse.”

A communal groan went up then. No longer surprised at the reminder of the young man’s usual mount.

“So, after you infiltrated my chambers, what did you do?” Ludwig shifted the subject back to the main topic.

Lars perked up at this. “He infiltrated your chambers?!?!”

Ludwig waved a hand at him dismissively. “We’ll discuss that later.”

He looked to Matthew to continue.

Matthew shared a glance with Alfred before continuing. “Al and I left the capital and road through the night to the Dark Woods. We bypassed the village and used one of Gil’s tunnels to sneak in through the trap door in the cabin’s floor.”

“His what?” Yao piped in.

Matthew waved him off and continued. “No one was around. By the time we got there, they’d already buried the body and taken Gil back to the village.”

“There was a body?” Vash asked.

Matthew grinned proudly then. “My baby didn’t go down without a fight.”

Small smiles of knowing agreement spread across everyone’s faces.

But his smile didn’t last. The upwards tilt slipping from his lips, Matthew continued with his narration. “After we saw what they’d done to him there and knew where they’d taken him, we couldn’t stay. I tricked Al back into the tunnel below and locked him in.-!”

“I’m still pissed about that.”

Matthew rolled his eyes at his twin. “I wasn’t sure I’d live through the raid. And even if I did, I couldn’t let you get tied in with it. So, I sent you back to Fritz.”

“Except by then, I had already learned of your escape and met up with the rest of our party en-route for the Dark Wood Village from the palace.” Fritz commented.

“And later me outside the village when I rode out of the Dark Wood on my way to stop Mattie.” Alfred added.

All eyes turned to Matthew. The blonde paused for a second, undeterred and unafraid of admitting to his actions. But even still, his uninjured arm crossed over his cast and his eyes lowered to the table. A picture of the cabin’s interior and what had taken place there forming behind violet orbs.

“After trapping Al in the tunnel, I set the cabin on fire. I just couldn’t let our home stay stained with his blood. So, I burned it down and led Kuma and the wolves in an attack on the village. You know the rest.”

The group paused a moment to let all that had been said sink in. When that moment ended, they moved on to cover the next piece of business.

“The Sheriff has been dealt with.” Ludwig began, catching Matthew’s sinister smirk as he said so. “And the villagers believe Gil was a Bartian survivor left abandoned in the Dark Wood. They also believe he died of his burn wounds and other injuries in the jailhouse.”

“My report notes will confirm it.” Yao added.

“So as far as the villagers know,” Ludwig continued. “the Bartian attack was the result of the Sheriff’s arrogant villainy. He mistakenly hunted down a Bartian for his own personal gain and brought on the raid from the Bartian’s ally.”

His fisted hand lightly banged the table in decision. “So, as long as we keep to the story and make sure our reports and notes correspond with each other, nothing should appear amiss. Vash and Lars can record Vash’s findings and Deputy Jose’s request for royal interference. Yao, add to yours my request for you to accompany us, in the instance there were any injured or unjustly mutilated villagers. Everyone, please include what you witnessed of the villagers’ state.  Fritz and Alfred, please make note of how I sent Alfred back from the palace with a missive asking Fritz to assist us as he has extensive knowledge of the area.”

Everyone, save for Matthew, nodded in agreement at the plan.

Ludwig nodded along with the others. “As long as we collaborate to keep our reports the same and don’t add more details than necessary, this should all seem sufficiently unsuspicious.”

The others nodded again, but Matthew shook his head. Astounded that after all this drama and talk of how complicated and delicate the situation was, the solution could be so clean cut. “No. **No!** There is no way what happened can be covered up with something so simple! Why the hell did we even have this meeting if all we had to do was match up your scribbles?!?!”

Heads turned toward him, but it was Lars that answered him in a calm, almost placating voice. “Yes, Matthew. The coverup is simple.”

Matthew turned to glare at him. Lars continued, undaunted by Matthew’s heated look. “It’s **supposed** to be. If there are more details or if we make it more complicated than it needs to be, there are more chances the King will get suspicious and have the matter investigated. Having someone come digging is the last thing we want. This way we leave only what we want them to find, in the event they do come sniffing.”

The others nodded, and Matthew settled down slightly.

“We’re just making sure everyone is fighting with the same battle plan, so to speak.” Fritz interjected.

Again, the others nodded.

“Alright,” Matthew sighed. “Then what do we do after this-!”

“There’s one more piece of the cover-up we need to discuss.” Vash interrupted.

Everyone turned to look at him with bewildered eyes.

“What is it, Vash?” Fritz asked.

He looked pointedly at Matthew before standing and walking over to his saddle bags near his cot. Reaching into one, he removed a folded slip of paper before returning to the table. Once he reseated himself, he unfolded the parchment and held it up for everyone to see.

It was Matthew’s “wanted” poster.

“Are we all just going to forget someone wanted by the Kingdom’s law enforcement just lead a violent raid on one of said Kingdom’s villages?” Vash continued.

The room sat in stunned silence for a minute. In truth, everyone had been so preoccupied with Gilbert, no one had remembered Matthew’s crimes.

Everyone except Vash that is.

And that’s exactly what Matthew’s actions were.

Crimes. Every single one of them in the eyes of the Crown.

Fritz raised both hands to cup his nose and mouth. Looking sideways at Matthew, he broadcasted to the room their only option.

“We have to kill him.”

Matthew bolted up to run, his brother mirroring his action in perfect unison. Before they could get any further, Fritz halted Alfred with a firm hand on his arm. Lars in similar fashion, raised his to pat Matthew reassuringly on his back.

“Alfred, sit down! I wasn’t speaking **literally**!”

“It’s alright.” Lars spoke to Matthew. “We just have to fake your death in our reports.”

“Yes. But how do we do it?” Yao asked. “Villagers saw us leave into Dark Wood.”

He looked at Ludwig pointedly. “They see him un-chained.”

Ludwig let out a pensive breath. “That is a problem.”

He scratched his hair in frustration. “Not to mention the culprit is Alfred’s brother.”

“Half the people in that village don’t even know I exist.” Matthew countered. “No one’s going to remember me. Or my face.”

“We can’t take that chance.” Ludwig countered. “If someone does remember or recognize you down the line, then the entire coverup is wasted.”

The prince leveled him with a hard stare. “What are your plans?”

Matthew glowered at him. “What?”

“What do you and my brother intend to do once he recovers?”

Matthew’s eyes lit up with understanding and he paused in thought; frowning at the table. In all honesty he hadn’t thought that far ahead. All his thoughts had been on Gil just **surviving** , not how they would live afterwards.

Matthew shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“They’ll have to stay hidden in the Dark Wood.” Fritz announced. “It’s too dangerous for Gil to go anywhere else, he’s too recognizable. Now that a Bartian has been found to have survived, it’s possible for others to have lived as well. A head-hunt will more than likely be issued to kill off any possible stragglers.”

He pointed at the picture Vash still held up. “And Matthew’s face will also be known. Those wanted posters aren’t just distributed locally, they’re spread throughout the whole Kingdom and into neighboring border towns.”

Looking to Ludwig, Fritz explained his plan to him. “The protection of the realm is under my jurisdiction. With your backing, we can ban anyone from entering the Dark Woods under the pretense it’s simply far too dangerous for the Kingdom’s citizens. That without the Bartians, the wild animal population has turned feral and overpopulated.”

“Um, it has.” Matthew pointed out blandly.

Fritz waved a hand at him dismissively. “If the decision is based on real facts, then it gives us more credibility for making that decree.”

Ludwig grunted in agreement. “Yes. If they stay within the Dark Wood and not venture out into inhabited areas, they will be hidden.”

The Prince turned to Matthew. “Are you prepared to live like that? To devote the rest of your life to living with mein Bruder in complete seclusion?”

Matthew chuckled darkly at Ludwig’s question. “A few days ago, I was completely ready to die with Gil, and now you’re asking me if I can stomach being **alone** with him for the rest of our lives?”

His lips tilted up in a saucy smirk. “Oh, **however** will we pass the time?”

**“EEEEEEEEWWWWWWW!!!!!** **I did NOT** **need to hear that!”**

Vash sighed in disgust at Alfred’s outburst and Ludwig’s blush. “It’s decided then. Gilbert and Matthew will remain here in the ruins and we will return to the capital.”

“But we still have to kill off Matthew in our reports.” Lars added. He looked out over the whole group. “So how did our friend meet his untimely end?”

“We’ll have to execute him.” Fritz breathed into the space.

All eye turned to him with shock. But it was Matthew who broke the silence. His harsh chuckle spooking the others with it’s sound. “Damn, Fritz! It was just a horse! You got him back regardless, so just let it go.”

The General shook his head. “No, it’s not that.”

He turned to address the rest of them. “When we ventured into the Dark Wood, unbound Matthew in tow, it is plausible for us not to realize what part he played in the wolf raid on the village. The situation hadn’t been sorted out at that point. But after interviewing the villagers, we would have discovered Matthew’s crimes. So, we can’t use ignorance as an excuse for not punishing a traitor.”

He looked to address Ludwig directly then. “And we cannot get away with executing one without also punishing the other. Not when there is irrevocable proof of Matthew’s guilt.”

Those gathered looked around at each other then. All uncomfortable with the topic being discussed, but understanding it needed to be hashed out.

“Alright.” Ludwig let out. “Then I personally doled out Matthew’s punishment by beheading when his guilt was confirmed.”

**“No.”**

Everyone looked at Matthew with an odd mix of exhaustion and consternation.

“What? You don’t like the idea of Ludwig being the one to kill you?” Vash questioned. “It’s your execution! You don’t exactly get a choice in the matter.”

Matthew merely rolled his eyes. “Normally I wouldn’t care. But if I’m going to die, then we’re going to do it in a way it benefits this cover-up.”

He straightened slightly in his chair then. “So, no. Ludwig will not be offing me.”

Matthew’s head tilted, and his eyes leveled on each man respectively. Running down the line of allies until it came to the last member of their ragged group.

“Alfred will.”

Immediately, his twin shot up from his seat; his chair skidding back with the force of his ascent. His arms fisted at his sides and a furious expression on his face.

**“I WOULD NEVER DO THAT TO YOU!”**

Matthew too, stood up from his chair then. Walking calmly along the right side of the long table, he bypassed both Lars and then Fritz before stopping before his brother.

Alfred glowered indignantly at Matthew.  Shaking his head minutely. “I wouldn’t.”

“I know.” Matthew replied reassuringly. “But for this you will.”

The younger twin bore his gaze into the older as he made his point clear. “If and when the crown finds out your twin committed treason, your loyalty will be questioned. And if that happens, not only will our plans fall apart, but you might be made to pay for my crimes as well. They won’t just strip you of your rank and remove you from Fritz’s training. You might die, Al.”

The young blonde reached up to stroke Alfred’s messy cowlick affectionately. “So, we’ll make sure there is no room to doubt your loyalty in the first place.”

Alfred wilted, then. His brow furrowed, and his shoulders slumped. Lifting his arms, he comfortably laid them over each shoulder and crossed them at the back of his neck. Effectively cornering them in their own little world. “I know this isn’t real, Bro. But even if it isn’t, I don’t like the idea of you being known as a bad guy. I like even less that you’re dying.”

“I understand, Al.” Matthew’s hand left his brother’s hair to tug at his ear playfully. “But if you’re going to be a leader you’ll have to learn to keep secrets.” He teased.

Alfred swatted his hand away and growled a playful rasp at Matthew’s antics. Matthew chucked at him, but his eyes quickly turned somber. Once again lifting his hand to the older twin’s hair, he tugged until their foreheads met and their eyes connected. Staring each other down, both sets flashed in a serious and resolute storm. No laughter or lightheartedness passed their gazes as thunderous violet met lightning-struck blue.

“And when they do ask you what happened, what will you say?”

Alfred exhaled softly, the gale overcoming their crystal prisons to leak thin trails of torrent down his cheeks. “I will say how ashamed I am of my traitorous scum of a brother. I will tell them how my loyalty wouldn’t let me let someone else clean up a mess I was responsible for. That I took responsibility and executed you myself. How I slit your treacherous throat from ear to ear and let you choke on your own bloody lies.”

Matthew nodded solitarily. “And my body?”

Alfred grinned sadly. “Left for the birds and beasts to pick clean in the Dark Wood along with the Bartian dog.”

Wiping the stray tears away with his knuckles, Matthew bussed his cheeks with the frayed hem of his ruined shirt. Stepping back, he broke out of their embrace and exited the world they’d made for each other. Turning to face the room, he addressed them at large.

“Everyone got that?”

Nods confirmed their understanding and agreement to this latest bit of the plan.

“We’ll have to iron out some specifics when doing up our reports,” Ludwig thought out loud. “But otherwise we should be good.”

Matthew sighed out loud and rolled his shoulders in weary exhaustion. “Well, then. If we’re done here I’m going back to Gil.”

Picking up his steps quickly, he sped around the table with renewed energy in his eagerness to get back to his slumbering beast.

“Not, yet.” Yao broke through Matthew’s quick words with chilling words. “We still need talk about Gilbert’s condition.”

Matthew’s retreat came to a dead halt; his stride breaking directly behind the chair he’d occupied earlier. Whipping back around at the healer, he let him know just how displeased he was. “I thought you said he was stable. You said you’d fixed him and he just needed to recuperate.”

Yao scoffed at that. “You don’t **fix** that. I **mend**.”

Shaking his head at him, the foreigner waved the indignant young man to sit back down. Matthew complied, albeit grudgingly. Worry for his love preventing him from leaving the conversation.

The others focused on Yao attentively while the Guild Master reached into the bag at his side; removing a few papers from it’s depths. Spreading them out on the table in front of him, Yao began to disclose Gil’s state with the worse possible revelation short of his death.

**“His Demon Blood has awakened.”**

 

 

*******

Yao lifted his eyes from his papers to glace around at the confused faces before him. His eye met those of the General’s and they shared a look. Out of everyone present, only the two elders knew what Yao meant when he’d revealed the true nature of his Prince’s condition.

To his surprise, it wasn’t Gilbert’s young partner who spoke first; demanding he explain.

It was his younger brother.

A clasped hand slammed down on the table before them, causing the rest of the party gathered to jump slightly in their chairs. Hard blue eyes met his onyx counterparts and Ludwig let him know this was not a suggestion.

It was an order.

“Yao. Don’t play around with us. Give us a clear explanation. **Right now.** ”

Yao turned his head indignantly away from Ludwig and huffed an annoyed snort through his nose. “Maybe if you not interrupt me I would have.”

His response earned him a hard edge to the Prince’s already angry demands. “Yao….”

Yao waved his hand at him. “Fine. Fine.”

Meeting Fritz’s gaze once again, he said. “Fritz, you tell them about Great Demon War.”

The others turned to Fritz with confusion and expectation, but the man just frowned back at Yao. “But Yao, I wasn’t even born yet and you were **there**. Shouldn’t **you** be the one to explain it to them?”

Once again, the room shifted their attention back to the Guild Master. Some with considerably more whites to their eyes now.

And once again, Yao rolled his eyes at all of them. “If you going to pull age card, then you should also listen to your elder and do as I say.”

It wasn’t that he couldn’t explain. It was more he just didn’t want to. While Yao **did** understand and could speak English fluently, frankly he hated the language. So archaic and different compared to his mother tongue. And so, he went out of his way to not speak it. Even stilting what he **did** say when using it.

If he were to explain the events of the war to them, he’d need to not only **have** a long and lengthy conversation, he’d have to be **articulate.**

So, the General could talk in his stead.

At least as much as he could.

Fritz frowned but didn’t argue his point any further. Instead he stared at his hands before delivering the impromptu history lesson.

“The Bartian peoples and their blood magic were a result of Lupin demons coming through the veil into our world thousands of generations past and breeding with the humans living outside the Dark Wood. Similarly, those same demons mated with the wolves residing in the forest as well. Creating the species, we all know as werewolves.”

Multiple nods answered his questioning look, asking if he should continue. Most of those present already knew the story behind the Bartian’s origin.

“As more and more demons passed through the veil, both Lupin and other, our people quickly realized their increasing numbers would soon overtake us. As a result, the different Kingdoms and Territories of the time banded together and went to war against the demon hoard threatening to obliterate all of humanity.”

“But I don’t understand.”

Everyone turned to Alfred then. No one was surprised he didn’t understand something. Some even huffed in annoyance at the interruption to Fritz’s explanation.

His Master only sighed. “Which part do you not understand, Alfred?”

Alfred sat back and waved his hands before him in denial. “No, no. I understand what you’re saying. I’m just confused on how Mattie’s boyfriend can be around if thousands of years ago some big war happened and wiped out all the demons? Wouldn’t the Bartians be wiped out too, since they were half demon?”

The room sat in stunned silence for a beat. Completely shocked Alfred had actually argued a valid point.

“That’s actually a good question, Al.” Matthew praised his twin from across the table. “Good, job!”

Alfred, not catching the patronizing double meaning in his compliment, simply grinned like the goof he was. “Thanks, Bro!”

Yao just pinched his nose and silently lamented the future if **this** was what the new generations had to offer.

Letting go of his nose, he waved his hand for the General to continue.

Fritz cleared his throat before going on. “That’s a very good question indeed, Alfred. To answer it, while the demons did in fact start coming through the veil thousands of generations before, the Great Demon War itself didn’t actually break out until about seventy years ago.”

A few of the rooms occupants turned startled looks toward Yao at that. Yao just smiled sweetly at them in return.

_Yes, I still look gorgeous in my old age children. **Deal with it.**_

He focused back on Fritz as he continued on.

“Gil’s ancestors **were** killed off.” He paused in the surprised and confused stillness his words caused. “At least half of them, that is.”

The General clapped his hands together and faced them forward so his palms stared out at the rest of the table. Pulling them apart, he raised his right hand slightly above the other. “When the war broke out, the Bartians had their own problems to deal with. Mainly, a split in the ideals that divided their population. Plainly put, half their people believed the best way to improve their species was to continue to breed with the demons and **only** the demons.”

He lowered his right hand and lifted his left instead. “While the other half felt it was best to continue to mate and marry other humans. Even if it did dilute the bloodline.”

Bringing both hands back down now, he clasped them together and let them rest against the table before him. “Now, bare in mind only select families and bloodlines actually bred with the demons. It was considered a great honor and only the strongest could survive the actual act. It was……quite the violent and bloody affair apparently.”

The others grimaced right along with Fritz at what such an act would entail.

Yao scowled in annoyance at the rest of them.

_Whatever you’re imaging isn’t even close to the real thing. None of you have had to sew up an expectant mother once the deed was done._

_……. Or after the babes were born._

Fritz pressed on. “Half the population didn’t think it was worth risking their members for the power such unions could produce. When the impending fight against the demons became a real possibility, a civil war broke out and the Tribe officially split in two. Those loyal to their bestial bloodlines traveled north to settle in the Krassny portion of the Dark Wood. Where the Lupin demons first crossed over. The other remained on the Gegend side and allied themselves in the fight against their brethren.”

He stopped to look over at Yao briefly. “The Demons were defeated with the help of the Magic Guild. Their Sorcerers either exterminating or forcing their numbers through the veil before sealing it.”

Once more, Yao found himself the object of everyone’s shock.

“But…. how?” Lars asked him. “Is it even possible to seal a rift between the realms? And if so, then why wasn’t it done before that point to halt their numbers?”

Yao sighed and opened his mouth to respond, but Vash piped in before he got the words out. “He’s a healer Lars. Even if he was there, I doubt he was high up enough to know the Guild Masters’ battleplan. Or actually fight them. He was probably an apprentice healer then and working in the relief camp on their wounded.”

Yao chuckled darkly at the Royal Accountant. “Well, you right on one thing. I **was** one of healers who provide relief to wounded.”

He met Vash’s eyes from under his inky bangs; his eyes as bottomless with killer intent as two black sinkholes. “ **But only after all enemy dead**.”

He retracted his gaze before he truly terrified the poor man. Leaning back in his chair he raised his arms up above his head and yawning, cracked his back. “And I already Head Guild Master at time of war.”

Bringing his arms back down, Yao stared off in to space with a regretful expression on his face then. “We not do it, because sealing rifts between realms require the sacrifice of fifty human souls.”

Closing his eyes, the faces of some of his dear friends and colleges appeared behind his lids. Their good-hearted and willing smiles as he watched them walk away toward their death. “We lose many in battle, but fifty of strongest and most powerful Dark Art Sorcerers gave themselves up to save rest of us from complete annihilation.”

He rubbed a hand over his mournful lids and opened them to a much paler and more morose group. “We still not recover from loss. Demon Magic users very rare to begin with, now we have only one powerful enough to be sorcerer rank.”

Matthew shook his head vehemently before speaking out. “But what does this all have to do with Gil?”

Yao swung his stare over to the young blonde. His eyes turning dead serious once more. “The problem? We miss one.”

“A Demon?”

“No.” Fritz answered. “A Krasnyy Bartian.”

The conversation once more focused on the military leader. “Fast forward twenty or so years, and strange rumors began flowing out from the hunters and traders returning from across the Krassny border. Tales of a red eyed demon, vicious and feral in the Dark Wood.”

He turned toward Matthew and Ludwig. “Sound familiar.”

Matthew shook his head. “I thought it was just a rumor. Not an old wives’ tale or legend.”

Alfred nodded beside his Master. “Me neither. It’s just something we’ve always been told. When the traders **did** actually pass through.”

Matthew agreed with his brother. “I thought it was created more recently too. I thought it was talking about Gil.”

Fritz shrugged at that. “In any case, the rumor has and will help hide him. At least there’s that.”

A hand moved up to rub his forehead and he chuckled in fond exasperation. “Gilbert’s grandfather Volker had just become the Chieftain of the Gegend Bartians when the rumors reached him. And in his infinite wisdom thought he should go hunt it.”

He huffed out another amused breath. “So, he did. Though what he found wasn’t some animal.”

“He didn’t find the Beast?” Alfred asked. His brow furrowed in confusion.

“Oh no. He found him. But instead of a wolf, cat, or bear, he found a Beast of the **human variety**.”

He paused for a second. “Well, half human.”

The older man shook his head again. “So, he fought it. He went head to head with a feral young man, raised from infancy by a she-bear and without any form of human contact what-so-ever. They damn near killed each other in the fight, but ultimately Volker won and claimed his prize.”

“Wait!” Matthew exclaimed. “He didn’t take him back as some trophy, did he?”

Fritz smiled crookedly at that. “Not quite. He **married** him. Named him Berrin and claimed he was his soul-mate.”

The room was silent once more. Their jaws hanging open in shock.

Fritz shrugged sheepishly. “Volker was a good man, but he had some strange tastes.”

“Wait!” Lars interrupted. “So that means Gilbert’s great-grandfather was a-!”

“A Demon, yes.” Yao finished for him.

“Which means,” Fritz took over. “while he is the last remaining Bartian, he also possesses the strongest bloodlines containing demon power on this plane.”

Yao briefly thought of Vlad at the General’s statement but kept quiet. There was no reason to share the Dark sorcerers secret with these people.

Fritz shifted in his chair wearily before continuing. “And the potential to use the Bartian’s greatest and most dangerous form of blood magic.”

“What do you mean?” Vash asked.

Fritz opened his mouth to respond, but Yao raised his hand to stop him. As much as he didn’t want to, he doubted Fritz truly understood the finer nuances. “Demon ancestry gave Bartians many gifts that make them stronger, but it also gave those with stronger ties the option of using Demon powers too.”

**“What kind of powers?”**

Everyone turned to their Prince.

Ludwig had remained silent throughout the entire explanation and now they knew why. Emotions overflowed from under the cover of his mask. Leaking his guilt and anguish at not only his brother’s current state, but at the reminder of how much his people had suffered.

Yao frowned regretfully at his Prince. Sad his news would not make his expression and corresponding feelings any better. “Berserk.”

“I’m sorry. **What?!** ” This from Matthew. He clearly did **not** like the sound of that.

“It’s the name given to the terrifying power used by only the strongest Bartians with the purest Demon bloodlines.” Fritz intersected. “The power half of them died to preserve at any cost.”

He looked back to the Guild Master and Yao explained it for them. “Lupin Demons can enslave shadows as familiars. They **will** shadows around them to take shape and do bidding. They make servants that don’t feel pain. Can’t die.”

The soldiers in the room took a few moments to contemplate such a power. To revel in stunned silence what such a power could do. What militaristic applications it could be used for. How much destruction could be wrought with such an ability.

“But if it has to do with shadows, why is it called Berserk?” Once again, Alfred asked the important questions while everyone else seemed too shocked to do much else but sit in stunned silence.

Fritz sighed wearily. “It’s called Berserk for two reasons. One, in order to use the powers the individual must fulfil two requirements. They must be a first-generation human-demon hybrid.”

He closed his eyes briefly before finishing. “And they must go through the Trial. A Bartian ceremony where the person of honor is psychologically, physically, and sometimes sexually tortured for a prolonged period of time. Until they break. As a defense mechanism, the demon magic in their bloodlines would awaken to protect its’ host.”

Another pause. “And that torture along with a foreign energy suddenly being present in the unfortunate souls’ body, **always** resulted in that person going stark raving mad.”

Yao snorted at that. _Says the man who’s never actually fought and killed a Berserk Bartian._ “Rabid monster more like.”

The others didn’t seem to appreciate his input at that. “Once you turn, it permanent. No cure.”

Fritz shuddered and went on. “Bartian Berserkers weren’t used like normal soldiers. When a Bartian goes Berserk, it can no longer differentiate between friend or foe. It’s a devastatingly effective weapon without reason. A weapon that won’t stop. Not until someone kills it. Essentially, Berserkers weren’t commanded. They were **unleashed**.”

Lars’s face scrunched up in affronted horror. “That……that’s **disgusting**! How could someone do that to one of their own people?!”

Fritz shrugged sadly. “As hard as life is now, it was even worse back then. Some felt it was more important to breed weapons whatever the cost.” A pause. “They didn’t value the same things we do. They truly considered it an honor to be chosen. To be remembered as a great warrior in a society which valuing strength above all else? What better way to serve their people and go out as a Berserker?”

“So, what you’re saying,” Vash piped in, “is that Gilbert’s torture and almost execution has made him go Berserk?”

Everyone stiffened as they waited for an answer.

Yao and Fritz both opened their mouths to answer, but Matthew beat them to it.

“No.”

All eyes turned toward the younger twin. “Gil is third generation, not first. And if torture could make Gil go Berserk, he would have turned when he was a Fodder Slave.”

He lifted violet wells toward Fritz then. “He might have lost himself during his service, but there weren’t any reports of shadow manipulation were there?”

Fritz nodded. “Correct. There were never any reports of such incidents.”

“Then what woke it up?” Alfred asked.

“He died.”

Yao didn’t see the attention turn back his way. He was too busy glancing over the notes before him on the table. “When people die, their energy switch from one with physical form to potential energy. Their soul leave their physical form and travel briefly through shadowed demon realm before arrive at realm of dead.”

Chuckling darkly, the healer raised three fingers on one hand. “Three times did trick.”

Lars leaned back in his chair forlornly. A slight hitch to his voice as he spoke. “So, he’s already lost.”

“No.” Yao shuffled a few more pages before finding his status notes. “I put my Prince into a healing coma right after reviving and before moving him here. His injuries have been **mended** ,” He stopped to raise his brow at Matthew sarcastically. “and I happy with his progress. The healing part in his blood magic save his life. I have zero doubt if he not Bartian he not survive Fodder Slave service, forget late Sheriff.”

Letting the pages fall back down to the tables surface, Yao steeped his fingers and rested his chin atop them. “I hopeful forced sleep give his mind enough time to rest and recover. Keeping madness at bay.”

“What about nightmares?”

Yao focused his attention on Matthew; raising an eyebrow in question.

Matthew narrowed his eyes at the foreigner. “Gill suffers nightmares and flashbacks from his time as a Fodder Slave. Can you guarantee this forced sleep won’t force him to suffer the same from his torture with Machado?”

Yao looked down at the table before him and thought about the question seriously. Though he suspected some patients in such a deep sleep **did** have dreams, he had no way of proving it. And what Matthew described was the result of deep seated trauma. While what happened to Gilbert at the hands of Machado was in fact traumatic, he just didn’t know how it measured up to what he experienced during his Fodder Slave years. He also had no way of knowing his Prince’s mental state before the Sheriff subjected him to his cruel ministrations. And how great the impact on his psyche was as a result.

In short, he couldn’t guarantee a damn thing.

“I not know.” He finally answered him.

Matthew sat back and refused to meet the healers’ eyes. Worry etching dark pits under his eyes.

“So, basically.” Alfred summed it up for them. “You’ve done everything you can, but there’s no guarantee he won’t wake up an **actual** Beast.”

Yao nodded sadly.

“But,” Lars desperately tried to find some hope in their dire situation. “If he wakes up sane, then everything will be fine.”

He couldn’t nod his agreement this time. “No.”

Whatever small amount of light had entered their dark space, vanished with one word.

Yao closed his eyes in regret. “If he wake up sane, his power still alive. It can be set off at any time. If something traumatic enough happens, it will tip him over edge.”

“And there’s only one thing to do when a Bartian goes Berserk. Only one way to save them.” Fritz added. His voice a hollow husk of misery.

Every heartbroken soul at that table wept silently then. Even if no one said it, they all knew the answer. Even if no one voiced the words they knew. They knew their Prince, their friend, their son, their brother, their love would never truly be safe again.

Because now no person or thing in the world was as great a threat as what lurked inside his own mind.

And try as they might, there was no way to protect Gil from himself.

He was just too selfless.

Too stubborn.

He would always put those he cared about before himself.

Even if it killed him.

A breathless sob escaped Matthew then, and as Lars and Alfred turned comforting gazes his way; Yao felt a twinge wreak his sorry old heart.

_It’s what makes us love him so._

Yao gathered his papers in the dreadful silence surrounding him. Putting them in order, he shoved them back in his satchel.

Straightening his spine with ages forged determination and steel.

_I wish it were different. I wish I could let them all stay oblivious._

He closed his eyes tight.

_But when the **real** Beast rips through him, it won’t be a fantasy mowing them down like prey. _

His eyes opened.

_The Monstrosity will be a very clear reality._

So, the ancient healer took a deep breath; and starkly gave voice to the fate they refused to acknowledge in the deepest parts of themselves.

And as the words left his lips to float on the air of their despair, he felt each and every one of his long years settle heavy in his heart.

**“When Gilbert goes Berserk. He will be put down.”**

 

 

*******

 

** Russian Translations: **

  1. Krasnyy = Red



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Challenged here! Ah, man. Gil just can’t seem to catch a break, can he? But the story doesn’t end here! Keep reading to see what happens next! (^^)
> 
> If you like what we’re doing, don’t, or just wanna say hi come scream at us in the comments section! We are always happy to talk and answer any questions you guys might have. Until next time!
> 
> *Chair diagram: http://www.props.eric-hart.com/resources/parts-of-a-chair/   
> -Because, yes. This is the amount of research I do for descriptors. *sigh*

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Note: If anyone has questions or if something is hard to understand, please ask us in the comments section. Enjoy the story! (^^)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Monstre of the Schwarzwald Castle](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8510458) by [Pickosita5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pickosita5/pseuds/Pickosita5)




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